


Alternates

by floralb0t



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Chara is good!!! anyone who says otherwise is just mean : (, Im talking Seriously slow burn, Neutral pronouns for reader, No Warnings Yet but will include graphic descriptions of violence in the future, Other, Reader Is Not Frisk, Slow Burn, Warnings for specific chapters will come in the notes, frisk is not present
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-10-30
Packaged: 2020-01-24 00:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 18
Words: 83,343
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18560437
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floralb0t/pseuds/floralb0t
Summary: You are a twenty-something university student, alone on Christmas because of your own choices and now the strange shape in your dreams is meeting up with your day-time hallucinations and trying to convince you that you've got just the dumb, bright red soul they need to open theunderground? Sure, I guess that might as well happen.This fic is very self-indulgent, you're gonna have to suspend disbelief hardcore when we get into the thick of it.On a short hiatus!





	1. Prologue

    Self-help blogs for small-town kids living in the big city for the first time on their own always say things like “Understand that even though pedestrians have right of way, drivers are _assholes_.” or “Keep enough change for a bus pass in your bag, you never know what might happen.” or even “Don’t walk around with both earbuds in and your music up all the way. Bad things happen to unassuming people.”

    It’s not like you’re a new resident to the city, it’s been what, a year? Year and a half? You know the basic transit schedules, you’ve gotten over the allure of having a loaded shopping mall 15 minutes away in basically every direction, you trust yourself to have both earbuds in and the music up loud. You wouldn’t call yourself unassuming.

    Though, you wouldn’t call yourself much of anything. It’s just habit.

    So as you walk carefully over the slick platform to the train, you have your earbuds in, your tunes on ( _*You believe in love? 'Cause I've got something to sing about it*_ ), and a coffee in your hand. The snow and ice of all the “sudden snowstorms” (Is it even sudden if winter always starts like this?) have made transit a little more unreliable, but you’d still rather fork up the money for a monthly bus pass than pay gas. You’re just being smart with your money. In any case, the darkness of the sky, the gently falling snow, the clean sound of Classic Madonna coming through your headphones make for a calm six a.m. You hum along in the quiet.

    Wait.

    Was that the sound of someone yelling behind you? At this hour?

    And if you focus, you can almost make out the sound of steps coming your way on the chilled pavement behind the slightly synthed drum beat.

    ( _*Then you'll know your love is re-*_ )

    “-K OUT”

    A pressure on your back, snow all over your face…? Goodness, why does your nose hurt so much all of a sudden? And, come to think of it, why does the rest of you hurt too?

    You wrap one hand around the metal bar beneath you to push yourself up, and use the other to wipe the excess moisture out of your eyes. “What wa-”

    “SOMEBODY GET ‘EM OUT OF THERE, THE TRAIN’S ALMOST HERE!” Someone behind and above _(what?)_ you shouts.

    Your eyes dart to the right, where there’s only white and a lump of blue you assume to be one of the people mentioned. To the left there looks to be, what is that, a rail train _(?)_ headed your way.

 _Oh_. The metal under your hand is the track the train runs on.

    You must have fallen down, onto the tracks. _You_ are one of the people mentioned.

 

    You sit, frozen, as it rushes closer. Only a second could have possibly elapsed, but it feels like ages before a thin hand darts around your waist and hoists you back over the ledge. You don’t really feel yourself being lifted like a child, or set down on the platform, or even notice the hand that held you dislodging itself from your statue-like body.

    A breath hits your ear and the last sounds of a whisper are beginning to fade before you shake yourself out of it.

 

    “Hey, are you alright?”

    “Sweetie, just take a few deep breaths. We’ll sort this out.”

    “It looks like your lip split, but I don’t think your nose is broken at least…”

    “C’mon kid, answer us so we know you’re alright!”

    “Do you think we should call an ambulance? What if that fall caused ‘em to go into shock or gave ‘em a concussion?”

    You look up to the people talking over your head, a transit officer who was probably driving the train, and two people you recognize from the platform. The taller of the two has snow all over their jacket and pants as if they had fallen in with you, while the other, a woman with a can-I-speak-to-the-manager haircut if you’ve ever seen one is getting busy tearing into the transit officer.

    “I think a concussion is the least of your worries. Why wasn’t the platform salted? This is completely dangerous! What if it had been a little kid!”

    It takes a moment for what she said to register, and you’re kind of shocked once you make sense of it. Sure, what if it had been a kid _(a younger one at least)_ or why wasn’t the platform salted. But like - your thoughts are swimming and it’s hard to find them - aren’t concussions really dangerous? Shouldn’t she be worrying about what did happen for a moment?

    At this point, you must have made some sort of noise because both the woman and the transit officer quiet themselves. The third person bends down and wraps a thick hand around you until you’re standing.

    “W-where -” Your voice is much shakier than it should be, maybe something is actually wrong? You try again. “Where is the other person who fell?”

    At least, you assume it was another person. You just saw a lump of navy blue in the snow, for barely a moment.

    The taller pedestrian looks around the platform for a moment before shrugging, with both the woman and the transit officer quickly following suit. Almost as if there had been no other person who fell. But, with all the people getting off the train and crowding around you, it’s rather hard to see anything. You can only hope that they’re alright too if they even existed.

    “I guess that means no concussion then at least.” The transit officer still looks at you with concern, despite his conclusion.

    There is a metallic taste in your mouth _(Didn’t one of them say “split lip?”)_ and you can already feel the pounding pressure of a migraine begin to settle into your temples. The ground beneath your feet isn’t shifting, yet, but you sort of want to sit down again. Maybe going to work today is a bad idea… You’d be late anyways, considering how long the train and yourself have been just sitting here.

    Wait, would you? How much time has elapsed?

    In a moment of pure clarity, you start scrambling to search for your phone. It turns up, unharmed, in the bag that must have fallen from your grasp before you fell onto the tracks.

    Wait, fallen? You sort of remember almost feeling like someone pushed you.

 _That’s ridiculous,_ you think. _Nobody would have pushed me in there._

_…_

_At least not purposefully._

    You shake the unuseful thoughts from your head and send a quick “medical emergency, can’t come to work today” text off to your boss. After a moment, you send another.

  * Took a tumble on the way in. It’s not that bad, but I don’t think I’d be of any use today in this condition.



    There, hopefully she won’t take away all of your hours this week. Hopefully it _is_ minor enough that you can go in for the rest of your hours this week. You sort of need them.

    “You should probably get yourself checked out though, Darling.” The woman says quickly, like she just remembered you were still here. “Do you have someone you can call?”

    “Yeah,” you mumble.

    The transit officer looks between you and the train that almost squished you, and the direction the other person must have left in. If they were even real. “I’m going to need to call my superiors and there will probably be an investigation. The police will want to talk to you, but that can probably wait until after you've been checked out.”

    You just nod and open up the calling app on your phone. There are about five rings before it’s picked up with a weak _“ugh, yeah?”_

    “I need you to pick me up.”

    They were simple words, but it was hard to focus on them long enough for them to be said.

_“What? It’s still sleep time. Let me sleep please.”_

    You sigh.

    “Jay, _please_.”

_“Wait, is something wrong? Hey, are you serious??”_

    “Yeah.”

 _“Holy fuck, okay. Just stay safe, okay?”_ There’s a thump from, you assume, Jay rolling out of the bed. _“I can’t let anything happen to you.”_

 

    Something catches. Jay said he would be coming. Help is on the way, comfort is on the way. You just have to stay safe until then. Easy, no problem. Why can’t you move past what he said? Why?

 

    The platform beneath you spins a little. Why is getting kinda hard to see what’s going on around you?

 

    “Just stay safe”

 

    You will.

 

    “I can’t let anything happen to you.”

 

    That’s so sweet.

 

    “Just stay safe, okay Frisk? I can’t let anything happen to you.”

 

_Frisk?_

 

    You feel yourself blackout.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	2. Chapter 1 - Flashbacks and Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slight warnings bc reader's got a history of mental illness, which is mentioned.

    Monique tosses a fry and it lands squarely on your face. She then stuffs at least three into her gaping maw, and tries to talk to you. To be honest, it only sounds like a garbled mess.

    “What?” You ask, waiting until _after_ you’ve spoken to eat more.

    She blushes slightly and swallows. “Sorry. I said, what did the police ask you?”

    “‘Did you _intend_ to end up on the tracks?’ ‘Can you give a description of the other person you say you saw on the tracks?’ ‘Do you feel you were pushed down there intentionally?’ ‘Do you intend to press charges?’ Blah blah blah.” It had been a lot of questions you honestly had no answer to. Apparently they didn't take well to ‘Sorry I didn't get to drink enough of my coffee to be completely awake before I almost died.’ You huff and shove more fries in your mouth. “Besides, they wanted to get the questions done as soon as the doctors let me go, so I was still feeling kinda woozy.”

    “You’re _still_ feeling kinda woozy _now,_ ” Monique says plainly. “Otherwise, I would be at home napping instead of making sure you don't stop breathing or some shit.”

    You sigh. It’s not like it's _that_ bad.

    “Don’t you sigh at me, you _fainted_ . You have a _concussion_.” She grimaces and looks away. “I know you didn't mean for this, but it hits a little close to home. We were so scared. Jay didn't want me to tell you but he was crying when he told me you two were at the hospital.”

    “Don’t you think that's a little extreme, Moni?” Sure it was a little freaky, but nothing that bad, right? It’s been years. You’re better than a relapse like that, and she should know it.

    “No.” She scarfs down the rest of the fries. You grimace a little at that and she just laughs. Even if this had freaked her out earlier, it looks like Monique was back to normal. Probably.

    You stand, grabbing at the mall food court tray before a sudden sound of kids laughing catches your attention. Despite not really caring about the sound, your head is drawn to look in that direction - too fast, and you can feel a dizzy spell take over.

    Monique catches you before you end up too off balance and gently pushes you back into your seat. “Let me take care of that, hon.”

    You nod. It was embarrassing, but maybe it the concussion was affecting you a little more than you thought.

    As Monique wanders away, you try to focus on something that isn’t moving in hopes it will help. Everything is so out of focus you can really only see colours, and at present, the most stable appears to be something navy. You can’t tell what it is or how far away, because before your vision clears, Monique drops into view.

    When she moves, the navy shape is gone. You instead grip her hand and eventually things even out.

    “Wanna go see the animals at the pet store?” She squeezes your hand and away you go.

  


    That night, and all the following nights of the week, you dream in gold. You wake up feeling _determined_ but …

    Every morning your old injuries ache, even those that only seemed to go skin deep.

 

    When you get back to work, your boss complains that she had to do more of her job while you were gone. You’re a little annoyed, but you expected it. She’s always been like this. You do notice, at least, that there’s always someone around to do the heavy lifting and at least once you see her pull out the phone to call someone if you stumble or turn too fast.

    You want her to let you do all the work just like normal, but you’ve always preferred answering the phones anyways.

 

    You dream in pink. You’ve been getting more confident, and you’ve been encouraging your friends to have that same confidence too. That said …

    You wake several times in the nights feeling as though your blankets are searing your skin. It hasn’t been getting better.

 

    One of the local papers mentions you. It isn’t about you, mostly. It’s an editorial about the quality of public transit in the city. You’re little more than a footnote to back up their argument that it’s been slowly going to shit and someone’s going to get seriously hurt because of it. You don’t even read the whole thing, but that’s okay. It isn’t about you.

    Later that week, you sign a petition calling for increased winter care on the roads and through the transit systems. It’s the least you can do.

 

    You dream in green and cyan. It’s been easier to stand your ground, and you feel like that has been better for you than running away, but …

    The dark places you pass at night and the deep water you know has frozen over by now still seem to send you running. You don’t know why.

 

    On the bus home one day, a corner is turned a little too sharply and you stumble in your standing position. The regular motion sickness takes hold of your stomach, but vanishes just as fast once a thin gloved hand darts out from under a navy jacket to make sure you’re stable. You’re fine, you promise with a smile, and some voice probably connected to that hand and arm says “Careful, you’ll wanna stay safe out there.”

    You get off the bus at your regular stop feeling as though something out there is trying to look out for you. You almost want to tell it to _fuck off_. You’re a big kid who can take care of themself.

 

    You dream in blue. Outwardly, you’ve been getting happier, more patient. The world sees you as healed, just in time for the holidays. However …

    You’re not healed. You’ve never been further from it. Each day, the weight of being you seems to get heavier. You didn’t even notice at first.

 

    You go to your classes like normal, and one of the friends you made asks if you’re doing okay. You look tired, she says, trying to be politely concerned. You tell her you’ve been having strange dreams, not sleeping well. She’s not sure what to say to that, but offers to help you with the final project for the class you share. English papers can always use a second pair of eyes to help proof reading. You accept, but it takes a moment of convincing.

    Monique and Jay, your two best friends, check on you regularly, but as time passes they go from being about your health to just hanging out. Slowly, but surely, everyone gets over it and your 15 minutes fade from memory.

 

    You dream in red.

    And it’s been a very long time since you’ve done that.

  


    The first breath you have in the morning is a sigh. All but the colour of the dream fade from your mind. In the end, you suppose, at least you still woke. The phone on your nightstand blinks at you as you unplug it, alerting you that it is 7:05. Your feet find their slippers and all of a sudden the day has started.

_Late december, a monday? No, wednesday. Late december, a wednesday, and it’s the coldest it’s ever been. Yet I’m still up at 7._

    Your thoughts have a bite that feels uncharacteristic, but that’s probably the lack of sleep talking. It’s been a downward spiral to almost insomnia over the last few weeks since your accident. The concussion really wasn’t that bad, but seasonal mood swings, a brain injury, and a history of mental illnesses mean that you aren’t very surprised that your nightmare filled nights also have a very dark undertone.

    You don’t want to call it a relapse, but that’s probably what it is.

 

    The house is quiet as you make your way down the stairs to the main floor. You work as a live-in house sitter for some older and better well off relatives of yours, but both work away from home for weeks at a time and generally keep to themselves when they return. All in the life of a pair of thirtysomething bachelor brothers who have no plans to change that. It’s fine by you though, your rent is cheap and you barely see your housemates enough to get annoyed by them.  

    It does mean however that you are the only person able to actually get fresh groceries. You sigh and make a mental reminder to stop at the store soon. The kitchen is empty when you get to it, save for the slightly overweight tabby sleeping peacefully on the cat stand in the corner.

    You wake her with a gentle “Hey Pepper,” as you pass. She mewls softly and stretches before settling back down to sleep. It appears that she agrees, it is _far_ too early to up and moving around.

    The fridge lets out a gentle light as you open it, grabbing for the vanilla creamer you keep stocked in the door, and you leave it open as you start a kettle on the stove. Sure it’s not the best thing to do, but the proper incandescent bulbs are just a little too harsh to be turned on yet.

    Uncaringly, you grab a bag of tea and drop it into the first mug your hand settles on in the cupboard. You’re not sure what flavour it is, but it doesn’t really matter. You just hope it’s one with caffeine in it. Slowly, the door to the fridge closes itself and you are again left in the relative darkness of your home in the predawn hours.

    There are no classes; technically exams are still going on but yours had all been early in the season. Your plans today had been to catch up on a couple of personal projects you had been letting slide, or maybe update your commission information. Normally you don’t get much interest but eh, who knows. _‘Tis the season,_ you think sarcastically.

    The kettle announces that it has boiled with a slowly gaining whistle that jolts you from your thoughts. You turn the heat off quickly and watch the red glow of the burner fade. Although you probably would be okay to pour the tea, you decide it’s not worth the possible burn if you miss. On go the lights, blinding for a moment, and then you can see. For a moment, you lament this, it’s like announcing to the world that you’re done sleeping and it can now start let things happen to you, but still. It’s better to be able to see.

    The scent of the tea hits your nose almost instantly after filling the cup - lemon ginger; one you usually save for when you’re feeling ill but a good one nonetheless. As long as it wakes you up, that’s all that really matters.

    You go to check your phone as you stir in the creamer you had added, only to realize that you hadn’t brought it with you. Unsurprising, when you realize that there are no pockets on anything you’re wearing, but annoying all the same. Quickly you take a sip of the only slightly scalding drink and return to your room upstairs for your phone.

    There aren’t any interesting notifications, only the usual dredge. A few updates from various social media sites, a message from some game you haven’t played in ages, and a couple of texts from the group chat “Mom-nique Buy Me Coffee☕️”.

    Sometimes you regret letting Jay name the group chats.

  * Jay-jay Binks: R we still on for mvies this Sat?
  * Money Honey: yaaaaaasssss



    Sometimes you regret letting Jay pick yours and Monique’s screen names too.

  * Money Honey: no bailing on me allowed !!!



    You might not be able to stay awake through all of it but that isn’t what matters is it?

  * Bee Baby Buddy: i’m down,
  * Bee Baby Buddy: gonna be sleepy af tho.



    Your screen name was an old joke, about this one time you pulled an all nighter and in your sleep delirium said that bumblebees were actually just baby bees, and that you loved them. Sure it had probably been cute at the time, but now even people you don’t really know had taken to calling you “B” because they did it so often out in public. You keep trying to think of something to change it too, but triple B was just so good. Plus it’d probably hurt Jay’s feelings.

    You finish sorting through your notifications and head back down to the kitchen. It’s now 7:20 and you still feel like a mess for being awake so early.  Your cup of tea is calling to you.

  


    Noon rolls around finally, and with it, the promise of perhaps some sort of human interaction. You don’t have any plans with anyone, but, you think of that empty fridge. Time to go bulk up on real human necessities! And even within convenient distance! You don’t bother with the tired old car that really shouldn’t be on the road anymore, let alone in the snowbound Canadian midwest, instead taking the literal four minute bus ride to the closest supermarket. The backpack that normally carries your textbooks is quickly emptied and you are off on your way.

    It’s rather dreary out, it had been a little warmer this week and the snow was turning into slush. You are careful not to slip each time that you have to cross a road, just in case. You don’t really want to have to deal with how gross that would feel, getting all covered in dirty snow and water from the roadway. This is not the pure winter wonderland that a snowfall is for maybe the first day, this is mid-winter, “I’m-already-sick-of-this” weather. You just want to get this experience over with, so you can go back to being curled up inside in the warmth.

    Your headphones play quiet music with a strong beat and when you lose focus, you suddenly find yourself bobbing your head in time with the songs. Although it’s a good song, and you feel good about doing something productive, the greyness of the sky and the morning still seem to be hanging like a curtain over everything. If only every day could be upbeat and perfect. Unfortunate, in that it can’t.

    With impeccable timing, you arrive at your stop just as the bus is coming into view down the road. Once you're on it, it drives as carefully as you had been walking, only taking a few minutes longer than normal. The grocery store welcomes you with warm air and the white noise of other shoppers as soon as you enter. It doesn’t take long to find all the things on your list, just a couple things to restock your fridge and some special ingredients for a small Holiday dinner. None of your roommates or friends are going to be home during the next week or so, but you don’t mind. When they get back you are going to do something, exchange a gift or two maybe. In any case, you get what you need, pay, and leave the store.

    Unfortunately, you weren’t quite as good at timing your exit. You have two options: wait some 20 minutes and then ride a bus for five, or walk maybe for maybe 15 minutes. It’s a pretty simple choice. You make sure your groceries are all secured either in your backpack or one of the plastic bags and then turn your feet towards home.

    Maybe because the warmth of the day was quickly fading, despite it still being early, or maybe because your thoughts were distracted with the snack you’d eat as soon as you stepped through your door, you were no longer paying attention to how uneven and unsafe the ground was. Like all walking, it was second nature to slightly adjust your pace to fit the terrain. The slush that was accumulating in the gutters of the road wasn’t even a whisper of a thought in your brain.

    So when your foot lands in slightly the wrong way, about halfway home, the sudden confusion and fear that jolted through your heart was enormous.

    An anonymous “they” comprised of various sources of media always seems to say that time slows down in situations right before something bad happens.

    Personally, you wouldn’t say that that is too accurate, especially not in this situation. It’s more like each moment is a separate frame of a video that you see only long enough to grasp an emotion before it's gone. In one moment, you were walking. In the next, you could feel your foot land in a bad spot, but your forward momentum was too much to change course now. Then your foot was not as under you as it should have been, and the contents of your stomach were not at the bottom like they should have been. And then it stopped. You could feel that you were still at an angle, foot not quite under you, but you also not quite on the ground.

    You unclench your eyes, something that must have happened while you were falling, and look out. There is the ground, there is you, and now you can feel it, there is an arm around you. Stopping you from falling completely.

_(What just happened?)_

    Well, you scramble out and away from this arm and it’s hold to see a person in a navy coat. They’re wearing a large baby blue scarf that covers what the shadows caused by their hood don’t.

    “looks like i got here just in time.” intones the low but cheerful voice of the person in the navy jacket. “you okay?”

    You can feel your face blanch and redden all at once. “S-sure,” you stutter out. “All good here.”

    The body in the jacket nods their head. “stay safe out there kid, somebody really cares about you,” they say in an almost knowing fashion before walking off. You don’t know what direction they had come from, but they leave in the direction you just came from.

    Did you pass them and not notice it? Or had they come down the street you were trying to cross? They were already so far away.

    You call out a shaky “Thanks!” to the fading figure who just throws up an arm in response.

    There is a moment of silence where the wind blows into your ears before you emotionally gather yourself back up, find the ends of your headphones, and again go on your way.

  


    It’s not like you to be as festive as you are this year. Maybe it would have been when you were younger, but, as the years have passed and faded away, so has your love of being outlandish in decorations and preparation. In spite of this, or maybe because of it, you put out lights, a small tree, other small holiday-themed knick-knacks, and made a bunch of snow sculptures.

    Jay calls you as soon as he sees the snapchats, impressed and low key jealous that he won’t be around for the next few days to enjoy your holiday spirit. “Honestly, at your height, it’s amazing that you even got the star on top of that tree there,” He says with a laugh.

_(It’s only six feet tall though… this is just as bad as him asking how the weather is “down here”)_

    “Yes well, I just needed to keep up with Monique’s display. Did you see how many lights she has hanging off her balcony? The place is a multi-coloured beacon. Put a sign on it and gay-batman would come running.” You aren’t a gossip, you just like telling stories. Even if those stories are you just lying to yourself that you’re not a gossip.

    Jay laughs again. You hear a horn honk from his side, and notice that although his audio is coming through clearly, there is a little bit of interference.

    “Are you driving right now?” You ask, though it wouldn’t surprise you either way.

    “Yeah, Shortstack. I’m almost at my dad’s place.”

    Oh. So he hasn’t made it there yet. The weather must be getting pretty bad outside of the city then, if it’s taken him this long to get home. You remember when he left because he asked you to stop by in the mornings to feed his dogs, but said that you wouldn’t need to today. “You left around noon though… How deep is the snow out there?”

    “Almost two feet already.” He gets quiet for a minute, but you don’t mind. It’s just nice to know he’s still on the other end, your captive audience. “Shit, sorry B, it looks like there was an accident up ahead. The cops are still here, but I don’t think I heard anything while I was driving.”

    You nod, though he can’t see it. “That doesn’t surprise me, it’s been so awful out. I sure hope everyone is okay though… Are you able to make anything out?”

    There's another few seconds of silence. “Not really… I think I can see one car in the ditch, but I don’t see anything else. I don’t think it was a crash, maybe just someone slipped off the road.”

    “Good. That means that they’re probably just spooked then, not hurt.” You absently get up from the living room couch and begin to wander the main floor of your home. “Speaking of not getting hurt…”

    Jay doesn’t say anything for a few more seconds, though you can’t tell if that is him waiting for you to keep going, or if he’s focusing on the apparent vehicular incident he’s witnessing.

    You soldier on. “I slipped and was caught by a stranger while walking back from the grocery store yesterday. I don’t think it was all cool or whatever like it happens in the movies. They barely stuck around afterwards long enough to decide I was doing okay.”

    “Ah, but were you okay?” Jay asks, paying attention to you again. “Also sorry, I was distracted, did you say yesterday?”

    “Yeah of course, you dingus. Do you really think I did all this decorating and got groceries all in one day?” You ask in return, teasing.

    You can hear him sigh. “Well I don’t know, maybe you got up really really early, and like the roads were empty so you could drive there in like two seconds flat.”

    Well maybe you _could’ve_ done that, but that isn’t what happened. You had actually started stress decorating last night after returning as a way to get your brain to forget the weird and uncomfortably _real_ day you had had. But yesterday had all happened, so it was time to tell someone.

    “Nah, I walked.” You take a peek out of your front window into the white abyss of the snow. “The roads were really gross with all the warm weather, and I’m not quite sure, but it seemed almost like this dude popped out of nowhere to catch me. Like, there was almost nobody out, just because it was all slush everywhere. And right as I take a step onto the actual road that’s going to end _badly_ , all of a sudden there is this person and now they’ve caught me and?” You pause, trying to even your breath out. You had been getting a little too excited. “It was just really weird Jay. Like I’m glad they were there, but seriously I have no idea where this person came from. And they definitely didn’t stick around long enough for me to even thank them.”

    He whistles, “Ohh that’s a little bit weird. But as long as you're okay, then no harm no foul, right?”

    You laugh out a sure, and try to tear your eyes away from what has become a swirling snow storm outside your window. “I’m totally fine Jay.”

    But there’s something outside the window, something you can’t quite see, that makes everything seem a little … darker than it should be.

    Jay is humming a song under his breath, and you decide that it’s probably time to let him get back to his driving. “Okay, well that was all that I really had to talk about, and I know you won't have any interesting stories until you’ve been home for a little while so I’ll let you go, yeah?”

    “Sure, triple B. I demand that you keep me in the loop about the weird holiday happenstance though okay?”

    “Hah, okay.”

    You don’t actually hang up the phone until you’ve locked the front door and closed the drapes on the front window. It’s better to keep that darkness outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	3. Chapter 2 - Calls and Cars

    It’s about 7:00 am, and again, you’re awake. This time though, it’s planned. You watch the minutes tick by on your clock until it hits 7:15 and you call Monique. It rings for a moment, and then she answers.

    “Good morning Baby B!” You can hear her sisters call out ‘Qui estça??’ and her turn away from the phone and yell back ‘Ça n'a rien avec toi!’.

    You chuckle and give her a moment to finish shouting. “Good morning Moni. Have you guys left for brunch yet?” She had booked a fancy place for brunch as a gift for her parents. Apparently, Quebecer brunch is better than anything the west side of the country has to offer. She had asked that you call her before the reservation which 10:00 am her time, and you had told her you’d call about 9:15, or 7:15 where you are.

    Through the phone, you can hear her shake her head. “Nah, my sisters are being assholes. Mom and I are honestly considering leaving them behind.” The mic on her phone is moved away from her mouth as she shouts to her siblings. “No brunch for little jerks!”

    You let out a yawn. “Well, I’m glad you made it there safe at least.” The blankets on your bed are calling you back to sleep. You do your best to ignore it. “Are you all set, gift wise?”

    Monique’s bright response is almost enough to wake you up completely. “Yes!” She pauses. “Well, sort of. I actually need a favour from you? Everyone’s gifts are all ready, but in case you haven’t noticed, you don’t have your gift yet. Neither does Jay.”

    You nod a little sleepily still. This is going require you getting up, you can tell.

    “So it would be really nice if you could head over to my place, pick up your guys’ presents and then give him his and take yours home.”

_(Oh that does sound nice.)_

_(But, wait. That’s not going to work though.)_

    “Monique, you do know he’s already left for his dad’s place, right? He’s getting back the day before you… which would be the 28th? I think? Definitely not on Christmas.”

    “What?? I missed it?” She sighs. “Well, you have his extra house key too right? You might as well just leave it on his table or something.”

    You swing your feet over the side of the bed and stand up. Definitely not going to be able to go back to bed after this. “I already have to go over there today and check up on his dogs. I can leave your present to him while I’m there.”

    You can hear some shuffling, and what sounds like her mother shooing her out of the house. “Don’t dogs need to be fed every day?”

    What outfit to wear today? It’s cold, so maybe a sweater, a scarf? Oh but if you’re going to be spending most of your time inside then it doesn’t really matter. “Yeah,” you say absently as you grab a sweater. “I’ve got to go back once a day. But if I don’t do it now, I’ll likely forget.”

    Oh and those poor dogs. You’d just take them back to your house if you could, but the cat. Pepper and the twins don’t get along.

    “Anyway,” You shake yourself out of the daze. “I’ll just stop by and grab them before I head out to his place. Any ideas on where I should put his so that the twins can’t get to it?”

    She laughs, “Baby b, his dogs don’t actually get into everything. It was just that one time.”

    You huff and switch the phone to speaker-mode so you can get dressed while you talk. “It’s not just one time, it’s every time, and it’s always my stuff,” your sleeping shirt falls to the floor as you change into your already grabbed daytime clothes. “I don’t want them to think that this gift is ‘My Stuff’ and therefore ruin whatever you’ve decided to give to him.”

    She laughs, lightly. “Just put it in his fridge. That's like, the most foolproof spot possible.”

    You grimace.

    “Though, like, do you think he remembered to clear out his fridge first?” She wonders aloud.

    Oh god, exactly what you had been thinking of, “probably not.”

    As you both laugh, imagining Jay’s reaction to his forgetfulness, your cat wanders through your room and gets herself tangled around your feet. You take the few steps to your dresser and grab some socks before reaching over to the stand beside your door for your wallet and car keys. Pepper meows softly at you before you turn around head towards the front door.

    “Okay well, the fridge would actually work but like that is terribly dumb so like honestly? You could probably just put it on the counter, right against the wall, and it’d be okay. The twins are literally Yorkies. There’s no way they can get up there.” Monique seems to fix her response as skillfully as she can. In the background, you can hear activity picking up.

    “Alright well,” you begin to slide your jacket on. “I should probably go pick that stuff up, yeah? Where are they?”

    “Just on my kitchen table.” One of her relatives, Mom, you think, calls out to her to hurry up. “Isn’t it like, super early though Bee-baby? Go back to sleep or something. You don’t have anything urgent going on!”

    You pull your shoes on and put the phone against your ear one more time. “No, it’s okay. If I get it done now, then I can go back home and sleep for like so many hours. Plus, I’ll get to have that accomplished feeling for the rest of the day.”

    “Okay, well! Stay safe on the roads, okay? Love you B! Au Revoir!” She mimics a kiss and then hangs up.

    The front door is gently unlocked, you slip out, and is locked again.

 

    Monique’s townhouse is cute. Her parents are paying for it, and whenever any member of the family is staying in the area can always crash at her place. Technically, you think, they got it so that all of the kids could use it when they start college, but you doubt any of her siblings are willing to stray so far from home on such a permanent basis. It’s more of a vacation place for everyone but Monique.

    The extra key she has is hidden, and you remember laughing when she first showed you where it was - stuck to the inside of the mailbox that hangs beside the door. “It’s better than just hiding it under a rock, I suppose,” you had said at the time. It’s still true.

    You quickly take the key from its lacklustre hiding place and make your way inside. The interior is just as cute as the exterior. The pale blue siding of the building transitioning smoothly into light tan walls that are covered with art (only half of which was made by you), and framed photos that Monique had taken herself. Even though she hadn’t been inside for days, and the sun was nowhere to be seen outside, something about Monique’s set up just oozed sunlight and softness. You take your shoes off by the door as soon as it’s closed to the chill outside and make your way through the main floor to the kitchen.

    The layout of Monique’s townhouse is simple. Kitchen, living room, and a mid-sized storage closet on the main floor, bedrooms on the second floor, and an open-space-turned-second-livingroom in the basement. It’s actually pretty similar to your own, though hers is much smaller.

    It doesn’t take long before you’re standing in front of her kitchen table, staring at two massive boxes, each wrapped in bright christmas themed wrapping paper.

_Either she wrapped up a whole person in here, or this is a box with a million smaller boxes inside._

    The one covered in red stripes and cats in Santa hats has your name on it, while the other, blue stripes with dogs in elf hats says “To Jay”. You pull your phone out of the jacket pocket it’s been living in and snap a quick picture to send to Monique. It’s captioned “Holy Fuck”. You decide not to send anything to Jay just yet. It is a Christmas surprise after all. You pick up the box with your name and give it a slight shake. It’s very light for its size, you notice.

    Before you load up the presents into your car and head off to your next location, you take a moment to peruse Monique’s snack collection.

_It’s not like she’d mind, especially since I left the house without eating._

    You sigh.

_Gotta remember to stop doing that._

    You snag a granola bar and a juice box before grabbing the gifts and leaving Monique’s house behind. The extra key goes back to it’s hiding place on your way out.

 

    The roads on the way to Jay’s place seem to get worse the further you go. You will admit to being a little surprised that you don’t pass any accidents or other incidents as you drive. At least his apartment building isn’t too far from Monique’s townhouse.

    It’s not a bad location or building, as far as apartments go, and Jay is rather proud that he found it on his own.  Plus, it allows animals. If you were being honest, you’d expect Jay to pick the building in the worst possible location, with the worst security and bad management over pretty well anything else if it was the only place that let you keep pets. His two dogs affectionately referred to as “the twins” were probably the most important part of his life.

    You can’t quite remember where he got the older one, a french bulldog named Sophia, but you were there when he got the younger, Chloe. Jay had picked out the second dog from the animal shelter because she looked like a carbon copy of Sophia if a little smaller. They're good dogs, as much as they both love getting into things, which is why as soon as you’ve gotten through the key-fob front door and unlocked the inner door to Jay’s apartment, you put the gift on a counter and drop to your knees.

    “C’ mere girls!” You shout.

    Two sets of long-nailed feet come rushing your way, with maximum amounts of small-dog barks. In an instant, you’ve got two soft grey puppies climbing all over your lap and licking at your hands and face. You start petting and gently scratching at whatever puppy is closest to your hands. It’s hard to tell them apart when they are both moving around so much and you’re so distracted by the sheer amount of love and attention they are giving you, but if you focus you can. The coloured collars help too.

    After giving them a few seconds to work some of that energy out, you gently take the one that has somehow managed to wrap herself up in the collar of your jacket (Green collar, so it’s Sophia), and set her gently on the ground. The other, (Purple collar, Chloe), jumps off of your lap herself when she sees you start to move.

    “Oh thank you darlings! How sweet, how cute.” You coo as you pull yourself into a standing position again. They jump around your feet as you walk from the doorway into the kitchen that’s attached. As you walk through the thin kitchen, you pick up Monique’s giant present and take it to the table. The twins' yap at you the whole time.

    “Are you two hungry?” You ask knowingly when you get to the dining area. “Huh, do you girls want some food?”

    They jump all over each other and your feet. You can’t help but giggle at their antics as you bend down to the small shelf that sits in the corner of the open dining room where their food is kept. It takes a moment of looking but quickly enough you find the small-dog-sized portions of prepackaged wet food and grab two. As soon as the top is pulled off of one and that strange-but-meaty smell hits the air, both dogs go wild.

    “Now, sit,” you say absently as you open the other package and turn to see both of the dogs. In response to your command, they’ve moved about a foot away from each other and are doing their best to sit still. A giggle sneaks out at how their tails are wagging hard enough to slightly move the tiny dogs. You set a package in front of each of them, laughing as you tell them to go ahead and eat.

_Jay’s attempt at training them seemed to have gone so much better than I would have expected._

_What good girls._

    They tear into the food with a fervour that reminds you to make sure the present is _far_ away from any edges where they wouldn’t ever be able to reach it.

    As they eat, you take a moment to remove your jacket and hang it over the back of one of the chairs, and set your phone and keys on the table. Stepping over the still preoccupied puppies, you wander into the living room where Jay had set up a “puppy pad” system for the pair. As much as it seems like a weird practice to you, someone who has never lived in an apartment and never had any issues just taking a dog outside, he thinks that it is a pretty normal thing. You sigh a little and set about changing the pad. As soon as you finish that and walk back to the kitchen to wash your hands, the twins finish their food and are back to bounding between your feet.

    “Do you two want to play for a little bit before I have to go?” You ask, using a baby voice. The dogs may be actually about 3 years old, but they are forever baby puppies in your heart. “I can only stay for a little while, but then somebody else will be back to play this evening. Yeah? Does that sound good?”

    Jay had asked you to take care of the morning feeding and had apparently made a deal with one of his neighbours over the evening meal. You can’t remember who, but are thankful that they agreed so you wouldn’t have to go through half the city twice a day.

    Oh if only your cat got along with these two.

    You grab one of the rope toys that was lying around on the ground and incite a game of tug-of-war. Chloe and Sophia’s playful barks fill the air beside your laughs as you lose yourself to the simple fun of playing with puppies.

 

    As you pull out of the parking lot beside Jay’s apartment building, you can't help but feel that you’ll never get the dog fur out of your clothes. Your phone is plugged in via a little USB that hooks into your radio and it’s currently shuffling between some pump-up feel-good songs. The massive Christmas present box is sitting in your back seat and every time you shoulder check, you glance down just to make sure it’s still okay. Sure it’s only - you flick your eyes down to your radio - quarter past ten, but you feel like you’ve already done a lot today.

    You decide that you’ve earned a treat, and try to remember the directions to the nearest breakfast sandwich selling location. To the best of your knowledge, there’s one just a few blocks away through the residential zone. You sure hope that you’re remembering correctly as you turn your car on the road that you _think_ gets you there.

    As you go, you pass a number of houses with various decorations up. Some are very capitalist-Christmas, like the house that had a full-sized wire sleigh and reindeer on their roof, but others are more religiously traditional, you think as you see an admittedly cute manger set up. You also see several quite impressive decorations for other holidays - one house had a light up a menorah on their roof that you’d guess was at least 5 feet tall and several dreidels decorating the yard. The number of snowmen you see warms your heart as well. Seeing something so childish and fun being embraced by almost every house on a block tugs at your heartstrings. No matter how cold it may be, you take it slow and keep your eyes peeled just in case any children are out playing.

    As you approach what you think should maybe be the last road you need to cross before that sweet sweet breakfast sandwich, you notice your car is slipping a little bit more. The snow has been driven over enough that the ice underneath it all you’re driving on. _Yikes_. You make a small mental note just to remember that, for the rest of your driving today.

    You slow to a stop as you approach the intersection you think will be the last to cross. To compensate for how icy the roads are, you start sooner than normal, and as you slide to just barely past the stop line, you can’t help but breathe a sigh of relief. On the side you’re leaving is residential, but the other half is just small business before the residential zones continue. You check all the incoming roads and find them empty, thankfully.

    Just before you’re about to start going again, a figure in a navy coat and baby blue scarf steps out onto the road in front of you. They take their time, probably trying to deal with how slippery everything is, but take surefooted steps. You can’t help but notice that the figure seems to be wearing sneakers.

_In this weather? That’s ridiculous. They must be freezing._

    You watch as the person gets to about halfway across and, just as you start considering going, slows down drastically. As much as you want to think it’s just because of the ice, the person never seems to second guess their steps at all. They do, however, keep looking down the road you are trying to cross, in the direction they just came from. You can’t imagine what they could be looking for, but you can’t get the idea out of your head that they look worried. Maybe it has something to do with the scarf, moving in a disjointed fashion that seems too lively for the slight wind.

    Based on how icy it is, and how legally you _are_ supposed to wait until any pedestrians have finished crossing, you elect to sit patiently until this person has made it to the other side.

    The song coming through your car speakers ends and you watch the navy coat bob ridiculously slowly as the person walks in silence before the next song starts. Just how long had you been sitting here now? The next song that comes on is an old pop song that brings back nostalgic memories of good times with your mother. You tap your fingers in time with the beat.  

    Although it feels like it’s been _ages_ , the navy-clad person still hasn’t finished crossing the street. You can’t help but think that if they went any slower they’d be going in reverse. Actually…

    You squint.

    They _are_ going in reverse.

_How the fuck…?_

    It’s like a crazy moonwalk, it looks almost exactly like they’re walking forwards and yet moving slightly backwards. The bright blue scarf still waves dutifully in the slight wind.

    You’re just about to say “fuck it” and go around them when a car comes careening down the road they had been periodically checking. It appears to be trying to slow down, but with this ice, they slide through half of the intersection before regaining any sort of control. Your music covers any possible sound of screeching tires, but you can imagine just how awful it must be.

    For a moment you are able to catch a glimpse of the person’s face and they look about as shocked as you feel. Finally, their vehicle comes to a stop at about the centre of the intersection. You, the person in navy, and the car sit in complete silence and stillness for a moment before the car, slowly, carefully turns down the road you had been planning on driving and retreats.

    You can feel your heart banging against your ribs, as the sheer shock and adrenaline flows through your veins. If you had started again when the pedestrian had mostly made it across, there is a real chance that that car could have hit you. Or if everything had been timed slightly differently, they could have hit the person in the navy coat.

_Holy shit. It’s too early for this shit, holy fuck._

    It isn’t until the crescendo of the song hits that you are able to shake yourself out of your statue-esque position. To be honest, your eyes are a little sore for staring down the bright white road for so long.

    You gather yourself back up and are about to also leave when you turn to check on the pedestrian only to see them staring right at you.

    Or at least, in your direction. That scarf covers all that the shadows of their hood miss. You feel a sense of familiarity.

    As you watch, they bring up an arm and wave at you gently. You can’t help but let your jaw hit the ground as you feebly wave back before letting your foot hit the accelerator to take you far away from here. Breakfast is long forgotten.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> nice and neat! We'll get to the part where we can start considering romance soon enough. <3 Also! This is likely the shortest chapter that will come, ever. All after this are at least 5k words and I know there's at least one thats nearly 15 so... happy reading!
> 
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> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	4. Chapter 3 - Soup and Superstition

    The door behind you gets slammed shut the minute you are fully inside it. There might not be much inside your stomach, but you can feel it all sloshing around, sitting weird, and trying to claw its way back out of your throat.

_That was too weird. Too wrong._

    You pull your phone from the pocket it had been living in and navigate to the calling app. Your back leans against the strong wooden front door, the only sense of stability right now. How in the world had that happened? Someone how that person seemed to know what was going to happen and they made sure you weren’t in the line of fire. Your breath is shaking a little as the phone starts to ring.

    “Hello?”

    “Jay?” Your voice catches a little, but you push through, “more weird shit happened.” You slide down the back of the door until you’re sitting on the ground. Your legs turned to jelly the moment you were leaning against something solid, and now they can just rest. Once there though, you slowly begin to work your outer gear off with one hand, as the other keeps the phone steady. “Like, _really_ weird. Like I almost got into a car accident but didn’t because of a random person.”

    On the other end, Jay’s breath picks up. You can tell that he’s excited to hear what you have to say. “Oh my gosh, are you okay?? You’re normally a really good driver.”

    You pause a second to take stock of yourself and physically you’re fine, even if the adrenaline rush is still pumping your heart a mile a minute. In an effort to slow it, you take slower, deeper breaths. “I mean yeah? I managed to call you, didn’t I? I made it home okay, thankfully.”

    He sighs, probably a mix of friendly frustration and relief. “What did you mean by a random person? Did you really have _another_ run in with a stranger? That’s like super weird. What if it was the same person?”

    “It is weird no matter what, but,” now that you think about it, it might have been the same stranger. You had been pretty focused on just getting out of there when you got caught by that one passerby. It had been a little too embarrassing for you to want to stick around. “I mean, maybe? I don’t know for sure that it wasn’t. I wasn’t paying attention to looks the first time.”

 _Man, it really sucks that I have to clarify a_ first _time a stranger saved my hide. Even if it was way less dramatic the first go around._

    You shudder a little.

    Over the line, you can hear Jay again sigh at you. “Okay well, since obviously, you don’t care about how weird your life is becoming as much as I do, tell me what they looked like and I’ll remember it for you when this happens again.”

    “Again?” You’ve almost got all of your outside-only clothing off, but you’re still bunkered down on the floor. Now that you’re down here, you’re not sure that you could stand again. “Do you really think this will happen again? Isn’t twice enough?”

    There is a moment's pause before Jay chuckles lightly and his voice turns darker and more mysterious. “Twice isn’t enough if the universe is trying to tell you something. These things always come in threes.”

    Oh, gods. You know he’s just being silly to try and shake you out of your obvious anxiety, but…

 _A third time? I’d_ much _rather not, thank you Very much._

 

    “Okay well, hold on for one sec.” You slide the phone into your pocket and try and roll forward. With your hands and knees on the floor, you try and move a little away from the door and push yourself up. It takes a moment longer than perhaps it would in a normal state, but you manage well enough. As soon as you think you’ve got your balance enough, you pull your phone back out of your pocket and give Jay an all clear to start talking again.

    “Okay! B? Give me the deets! I wanna know what they looked like.” Jay’s excitement bleeds through. You can only imagine how bored he must be if he’s this interested in something that is so trivial. “We’ve gotta keep track.”

    You had started on your way to the kitchen, maybe for water or maybe just for somewhere to sit, but now you pause. “Why do you care so much about what this person looked like? Like it wouldn’t have been so shocking if it wasn’t for the music I was listening to.”

    “Well tell me what you were listening to then!” You figure he must be really _really_ bored then.

    “Abba, of course. What else?”

    He laughs.

    Of course, what else. Your heartbeat has almost gone back to normal. Though, now, in the back of your mind, you can’t help but feel a twinge of guilt. You’ve been listening to your mother’s favourite music from when she was your age, all of your friends have gone home for the holidays, and you’re still sitting here alone. Not having even thought of calling in weeks, if not months. But of course, what else would you have been doing?

    As you cross the threshold to the kitchen, you notice just how bright the room is. Somehow, it still isn’t even noon and you already want to sleep for hours and hours. Your heart has gone back to normal, your mind is no longer racing, even if it is lurking in wait, and you’ve already accomplished all you needed too for the day. A small sigh slips through your lips as you pull yourself onto the counter to sit.

    Through the phones, you can hear Jay clap his hands, just once. It’s a weird thing he does whenever he’s ‘About to get down to business.’ You can only imagine the spiel he’s going to give you next.

    “Okay. B? We’ve sorted out what music you’ve been listening too, which is unsurprising, and you’ve probably realized that I’m terribly bored and need something to latch on to for entertainment. I’m gonna need you to go through and give me exact details on this whole event. Did my dogs figure into it? Have you eaten breakfast? Was it _good_ Abba or _bad_ Abba?” He pauses, just enough to forcefully catch his breath. “Which planet is in retrograde right now? Is it mercury? The strangest things always seem to happen to me when mercury is in retrograde. Have you considered the fact that this might be fate? Have you considered that this might be something interfering with fate? Is mercury himself coming down from the heavens to fuck with your fate? Can we ta-”

    You cut him off with a laugh, “Okay, no. That was enough thank you! I know exactly where you were trying to take this.” You have to pause to get some giggles out before you can talk properly again. “I’ll give you all the details, but only if you don’t turn this into another conversation about the bodies of Greek gods.”

    Through the phone you can hear Jay gasp, probably baulking at you and your decision. When he speaks, he sounds like a child, lusting after some toy they aren’t allowed to get. “But they’re so chiselled, B! Perfect in every way.”

    Again, all you can do is laugh as you rebuke him. “They’re so chiselled because they’re made from stone, you dork!” As you talk, you go through the motions of making a cup of tea. It’s still before noon and you should probably eat something, but you don’t think your stomach has settled quite enough for that. “Thank you, Jay. Really, thanks.”

    He quiets after hearing your more sombre tone. “Of course, B. Always.”

    “Can I like, actually tell you about it now?”

    The boy on the other end of the phone laughs. “Please, please do.”

    The mug in front of you is awaiting the water you had just finished boiling, which you pour as you prepare to relate today’s weird as fuck tale. As you begin, you can feel the calming effects of your friend and the comforts of home really starting to take effect.

  


    “Okay, how did you sister like the game you got her?” You kick your feet up onto the armrest of the couch, like a 90s teen from a phone/gossip movie shot. “Was she excited? Did you win “Older Brother Of The Year” with the help of yours truly?”

    Jay sighs. “Almost,” he says, audibly speaking through gritted teeth. “Dan got her some spraypaint and told her he’d help her make a spray tag.”

    “Oh, crime. Cool. It’s hard to beat that.”

    You’re lying with the phone set to speaker lying on your chest. Through the main window over the back of the couch, winter sunset lights are streaming down. Damn the rotation of the earth, letting the sun go to sleep at 3 pm but making you stay awake. To be honest, if Jay wasn’t actively talking to you, you’d probably have left towards dreamland yourself.

    “Yeah, though you can bet Momma wasn’t pleased with that, but like. Dan never _said_ he was gonna teach her how to do it on the side of a building or whatever.”

    You shrug a little and yawn before commenting, “Well, he does, like, professionally spray paint murals and shit. He has no control over whether or not she uses her newfound powers for chaos.”

    “Evil?”

    “Nah, I think it’s more chaotic. Evil is like actively harming things, right?”

    “Mmm, I guess.”

    You both fall silent, letting the comfort of friendship balance out the empty silence. Although you don’t really want to sleep you can feel the warmth of the sun lulling you.

_Man, Christmas? Nice. What a fun time. It’s so nice … to spend time with … friends …_

    “- ey? C’mon, B? Heyyyyy?”

    Jay’s voice jolts you awake. “Huh? What? Jay?”

    “Hehe, okay. Take a nap, kiddo. I’ll call you later, okay?” Jay chuckles at you, and you can feel your cheeks blush slightly. “Bye, B! Talk to you later.”

    The call ends with a click.

_Oh._

    A small smile appears on your face, as you curl a little tighter on the couch. Things are good. Things are good, _things are good._

_Good._

    …

    You sleep.

    There’s snow on the ground, and it looks like night, but it doesn’t _feel_ like night.

    There are lampposts next to the streets, but they look different. Not electrical, at least. This is normal, not even enough to register a thought. The streets are just cobbles, but they look smooth underneath the snow that has been packed down by many a foot. Again, this is normal.

    You don’t walk the streets, so much as you blink and are further ahead in your chosen path of movement. As you flit down the streets, you resist the urge to peek into the homes and business’ that line the streets. You know they wouldn’t mind, but you’ve been taught to not snoop.

    That said, you do see the persons who live and work in these places. They smile and wave. You don’t see your hands, but you wave back, or at least, feel like you’re waving back.

    It feels like home.

    It’s a little chilly, but that’s okay. You belong here, you just need more outer layers than the others that live here. They have fur, usually. You don’t. That’s okay though, it still feels like home.

    It feels like home, far away, and never available to you.

    Although you can’t see it, you know why. It’s all around, like a bubble, holding everything that lives and breathes inside. Your home is cut off, trapped, far, far away in every direction possible.

    It’s your home and you’ve never been there.

 

    You’ve never been home.

    A vaguely wet paw poking your face wakes you. There’s a stiffness in your shoulder, that only feels like it’s partially caused by the cat sitting on you.

    “Oh, Pepper, come on.” You shift and she jumps off, crying out at your movement. “Did you need something? Or did you just want to be a pest, Pep?”

    She mewls in response. It tells you nothing.

    Sighing, you rub your eyes and notice that your cheeks are wet. _Oh._

_I had been crying._

    You sigh again and try to remember what you had been dreaming of. The actual events are lost to you, but it doesn’t leave an air of sadness. Instead, you remember a sense of peace. Well, that, and a cute melody that you can’t help but hum.

    After a moment or two more of trying to remember, you just shrug and decide to move on. Pep darts out of the living room before meowing at you again and striding back in with a smug look on her face.

_Oh, what did she do now?_

    You get up from the couch and regain your bearings in time and space. Your phone fell to the floor at some point, which you check in the ambient darkness to see only two hours have passed. You comb your fingers through your hair, stretch your shoulders, and slip that phone into your pocket.

    There, now you feel more awake.

    A yawn slips through your lips, which you quickly cover.

_Okay, well, maybe not totally awake._

    The cat walks towards you, darting in between your legs and crying like a baby. Cooing, you pick her up and exit towards the kitchen. Her food is back in your room, but you know you have some treats tucked away in one of the cupboards. She doesn’t give you any space as you grab and open the small bag of weird cat treats. With a chuckle, you pull out a few and lean down to let her grab them from your palm.

    After she’s taken them all, you stand back up and take a look out over the kitchen. There’s some ambient light streaming in from outside, but not a lot. A small lamp in the oven is on, but that’s not enough to comfortably light the room. You try to remember what all you have in the fridge and the cupboards, but you can’t quite picture anything more than mac and cheese, which, isn’t the most appetizing currently. With a quirk of the mouth, you flip the light switch and start going through what all you have available to you.

    There are a couple of pasta possibilities, but also a handful of other things, like soup or bread, or … you think you have all the stuff for a salad, but maybe not. After a little more searching, you settle on a tomato bisque and a … deconstructed salad. It would have been a fancy dish if everything wasn’t either premade or missing a few key ingredients.

    That's okay though, you’re not out to impress anyone, you just want to eat some food. You turn on the stove, open the ready-made soup, and heat it up. As it cooks, you sort of cobble together a salad from some lettuce, carrots, and cucumbers. It’s … well, it works.

    While you do the work, your mind strays to the holidays and thoughts of home. Although there’s a shit ton of ice, there isn’t as much snow this year. It feels weird and it’s making you homesick. That said, there isn’t anyone “home” for you to be missing. You moved out maybe two years ago, and literal days later your mother left too. Although your family had been from the area, and at one point it was pretty big, you and she were the only two left here. When you moved out, your mom left for the coast, where your grandmother had moved to when she was your age.

    They don’t get much snow there either, even a few centimetres is something to talk about, so visiting her wouldn’t quell this craving you have. You don’t mind though, you honestly think you’re missing the whole of your childhood, not just white Christmases and making snowmen. Besides, you and your grandmother never got along too well, the very few times you saw her. She feared the mountains you still think of as home.

    She feared something _in_ those mountains, but that was the only place you’ve ever felt completely comfortable.

    Your mom wasn’t scared, but she was lonely, and she knew your grandmother was too. When you moved out, it was the perfect excuse for a mother/daughter reunion. You don’t really mind that she’s out there anyway, your grandmother has been taking some pretty serious hits to her health lately and having family nearby is a comfort. Even if you didn’t really like the woman, your mom sure did. If ole G-ma kicked the bucket without your mom being nearby, she’d be devastated.

    The maybe-salad gets a weighty dollop of dressing and you lean against the counter while you pick at it. After a bite or two you remember that there is soup on the burner, and almost drop the salad in a blind panic of _Oh god, I didn’t ruin it, did I?_

    You try and save it before slipping back into a holiday-fueled nostalgia. Once you’ve pulled the soup off the heater, you turn your back to the oven and lean against the counter once more. As you drift in and out of old memories, an idea pops into your head.

    Maybe it’s not just the cold winters of your youth that you are missing, but instead maybe just your youth in general? Everything was simpler then and you still had the support of an ever present parent looking out for you. The world seemed like a much better place when you were younger. To be honest, though, that was probably just because you hadn’t yet been introduced to the horrors of the world, things that were there whether you knew of them or not. That said, even if you had known, you’d probably have focused all of your energy on outdoor adventures and videogames and silly cartoons anyways.

    It actually makes you a little teary to think about. Maybe you miss it all more than you had originally thought.

    You ponder the past for a few more minutes before putting that aside and tearing into your home-made meal. Once that’s dealt with and your stomach fully sated, you decide to settle down for a quiet Christmas-eve-eve. Beside your mid size, pre-lit Christmas tree, you tuck in on the couch with your laptop in hand. Although you are feeling uncharacteristically festive this year, you still decide to watch something not holiday related. You settle on some classic documentaries on your mom’s Netflix after a fair bit of searching around. As long as she didn’t kick you off it, you’d continue to use it.

    You settle in with a contented sigh. Things have been weird lately, and you could really use this time to just relax. That said, it’s not like things have been _hard_ lately, just hard to deal with. It’s not like you’ve been doing homework or heavy lifting. Maybe that mindset of just “chill and relaxation” has made everything feel so much weirder. For a moment you actually consider going upstairs and grabbing the stack of paper that you are going to need to filter through for your first class over a week from now. Then the moment passes and you pull the blankets even tighter around you.

_I’ll get to it later. Maybe this year, I won’t leave it to the last minute, but I’m not going to start it now._

_Too comfortable for that._

    With blankets and the comforting steady voice of a narrator, alongside the quaint Christmas lights streaming through the front window, you slowly find yourself being pulled towards sleep. As your eyes flutter open and closed, you notice movement coming from the windows. It’s subtle at first, just the lights on houses across the street slowly going out. You don’t think it’s gotten late enough for automatic timers to shut off, but you’re too far gone to make that connection. It starts getting faster and faster though, and you’re able to see that it’s not the whole string turning off at once, it looks much more like each individual bulb like dominos.

    Your limbs have turned to stone with the pull of warmth and exhaustion keeping you in your place. Even if you had thought it was out of place that your home seems to be the only one with any light left, you’d be asleep far sooner than you’d be up and investigating. There’s just been so much today, it’s time for someone else to care or do anything about it.

    Your home, your safe place, your light in the dark.

    As your eyes close, you feel like you’re living in a star in the sky.

    It leaves you feeling … determined _._

  


    You are on a ship. It’s not a big one, more of a sloop than anything else, but you know in your bones that it’s yours. Your sailors flow like water around you, tieing up lines, checking the rigging, running ammunition to the main deck, and so forth. There’s even one scrubbing a corner of the deck that got particularly dirty during your last encounter. An encounter that your ship, of course, prevailed in.

    Of course.

    After a moment, you decide that you don’t have quite a good enough view of your people, scrambling like ants around you. To rectify this, you climb the single mast to about half of its height and enjoy your view. Occasionally, a sailor will yell up to you, but their voices are made of nothing but rushing water. You nod or shake your head to each shout as if you could understand what they’re saying. Perhaps you do.

    In any case, you don’t dwell on the matter.

    You watch them for a moment more before the sailor behind the wheel shouts to you. Although they look exactly like the rest, a carbon copy of the most generic sailor/pirate/navy-man possible, this one shouts in Monique’s voice. She shouts that there’s something strange up ahead, Captain, something not of this world.

 _Interesting_ , you think. _It’s about time we had some adventure._

    Where it had been a day only a moment ago, light cascading across the deep blue waters, you now see nothing but the darkness of night. The dark cerulean of the ocean is pocketed with bright glimmers from the stars above. As you search for what your First Mate Monique had pointed out, you take a moment to marvel at how bright the night still is.

    Over the horizon, just past where the world ends, you finally see it. The **Nothing**. As you watch, it eats the stars and the light you were just marvelling at disappears. It starts speeding across the skyline, speeding over your head, speeding towards the other side of the horizon line. The sky is black now, really and truly.

    The moon, the stars, all lights other than your ship, are _gone_.

    Your eyes quickly dart back to where the **Nothing** had started, and find that you can’t even see where the ocean ends and the sky starts. Even when squinting, it just looked like a dark space. A **Nothing**.

    “Sailor?” You call, no fear in your voice. The quickening of your heart was interest, excitement, hope, for what the **Nothing** would show you. When you look back to the Mate with Monique’s voice, you can see all of your sailors, each identical face, watching you with a look of fear. “Ready the lifeboat.”

    Each mouth opens in unison, the sounds of rushing water overtaking the quiet sea, and they all ask, “Where are you going, Captain?”

    Although you can’t see yourself, and in the darkness that felt like it was creeping into every inch of the world, you can feel a grin split your face. “I’m going to the **Nothing**.”

    In an instant, you are on the lifeboat, an oar in each hand, as you paddle your way to the start and the end of the universe. On your sloop, each sailor is holding a lantern that lights their face. You do not feel fear as you go further and further away, instead, you feel comfort, protection. The dark is not something to fear, the blackness is home to the rebirth of the world and you are going to dive right in.

    Once you are far enough away that each face is little more than an orange-lit circle in the dark, you can see them go out. Slowly, one after another, your sailors welcome the dark and the **Nothing** that will shape them.

    You turn back, looking over your shoulder at your destination, and find that you can’t see it, meaning you have arrived. In an instant you are no longer sitting and rowing, you are walking. Although you can’t see your steps, you jump lightly from slightly skewed stone to stone with the confidence of a gymnast who built this unseen course by hand.

    Your Captain’s clothing melted away as you skipped forward in the complete dark. Despite not being able to see anything else, you could see your own body in perfect clarity. The small jumps turn in to confident steps on level ground. After a short amount of time passes, something like ten or so minutes, you realize that you are wearing the clothing you fell asleep in,

_Oh…? That would mean I’m still asleep._

    You slow your pace to a stop.

 _Where am I? If this is a dream, shouldn’t I be_ somewhere _?_

    As you look around, finding nothing, you can’t help but notice how calm you are. This nothingness, this **Nothing** , seemed to be a place outside of places, outside of emotions like fear.

_Perhaps I am still dreaming._

    The sound of static slowly fills your ears, replacing the silence and the **Nothing** so incrementally that you don’t notice until it’s louder than your own thoughts. It’s not pleasant, but it doesn’t hurt. Yet.

    Frowning, you try to will the static away. _If this is a dream, then I am awake inside it. Shouldn’t I be able to pick where I am? Shouldn’t I be able to_ remove _that?_

 

**Well, as far as I can tell, that has yet to be proven, my dear.**

 

    The static shifts, like taking a step from shadow into sunlight. It’s still static, but it’s words. A voice.

    If you squint, you can almost make out something in the comforting **Nothing**.

 

**Ah yes, give me a moment, child.**

 

    As you watch, something black takes shape in the empty. Its edges are blurry, almost smokey, but it’s definitely a _something_ where there should be nothing. The longer you stare, the more solid it gets until a macabre face takes form. It looks like a pale grey theatre mask, though it’s been cracked. In the eyes, you see two small glowing white orbs. Eyes? Lights? Whatever they are, they blink in and out while the creature seems to get its bearings.

 

**Much better.**

 

    You .. aren’t sure what to say. What to think.

_Okay, this has got to be a dream._

 

 **Oh no, my dear.** The creature’s eyes lock onto you and the cracked mask of a face seems to change into a small smile. **This is not a dream. But this is also not real.**

 

    You can feel your face quirk in confusion. “Then what is this? I _was_ just dreaming, so wouldn’t this be one as well? Who are you? Where are we?”

 

    The creature takes a small bow. As it does, two bone white hands flash out of the smoky body’s mass. **You may have dreamed up the name of the Nothing, but that could be this place’s name. To be fair, this place could also be called the Everything. It is outside of reality, but at the same time, it is reality. You are dreaming, but you are awake, and you are here, but you have never left your home.**

 

    “Oh.” It is still confusing, but you can tell there is nothing to fear. Laughing to yourself, you conclude that that feeling of safety must be the part of you that is still dreaming.

    In front of you, the creature seems to pace. The static that you can hear is coming from it never seems to travel. Instead, it seems to be coming from everywhere all at once.

    “So, who are you?” You repeat. “You didn’t answer me the first time.”

    It draws a hand to its face, finger to its chin, and you can see the lights of its eyes blink out. It stands like that for a moment before turning back to you, the smile back on its face, but softer now.

 

**I am nothing. Not Nothing, mind you. Just a regular ‘nothing’. I was once something, but now I am here, where I am not that any more. From here, I have no name, but like everything else, I could have any name.**

 

_Strange. All these contradictions._

    You inspect the creature for a moment more before an idea pops in your head.

    “Static!”

 

**I see. It is … suitable enough.**

 

    It was simple, the creature seemed to emanate static. If it was made of the **Nothing** /the **Everything** , then this one thing that set it apart would be a good enough name for now.

    Satisfied with the exchange, your attention drifts back out into the dark. It isn’t dark though, you decide, it’s just an absence. It still feels comfortable though. You peer out into it for an indescribable amount of time before turning back to the Static.

 

    “Why are we here?” You ask, more curious than anything. “How did I get here through a dream?”

 

    The Static grins. The crack on one side of its mask shifts along with the rest of the face, giving a sense of fluidity. **I came here to study all that there is. And I called you here, through your dreams where you are the most accessible from this outer ring of life because I have seen something interesting.**

 

    Similar to how you saw the Static form, it waves its hand and a trio of screens emerge out of the smoke. As it talks, the screens flicker to life, full of static.

 

 **There is likely many versions of the Nothing or the Everything, but there is one Nothing for all** **_of_ ** **everything. From here, I can see different worlds, different timelines, different realities. There is a discrepancy in yours, my dear.**

 

    The middle screen shifts and showcases different snapshots of your ‘world’, you suppose. There seems to be clips of different events going on, but they are all silent. As the Static continues to talk, you watch five seconds of an Australian news broadcast, then just a clip of some willows waving in the wind, next a group of divers bringing up some sparkly gold relics from the ocean, untarnished by time. If flips like this, seemingly at random, every five to ten seconds.

 

**There is no one to place the blame on, it is simply a divergence in how the world progressed. That said, it is most unfortunate and I can feel the Everything here ache, for those who are affected. I too, ache for those who are still trapped.**

 

    The word ‘Trapped’ catches you off guard. You can’t help but feel that you should know what the Static is talking about, but instead, you can remember nothing.

 

**They are stuck, living lives that, to the best of my knowledge, they were never meant to live. They are disconnected from the rest of everything. Disconnected from the Everything. You are here, because you are the one who will free them.**

 

    You watch as the Static motions to the screens, and all three begin to show you a mountain. It jumps to a cave on the mountainside, and then to a long stone hallway. It them moves to a room filled with scattered sunlight and bright flowers, then to a golden hall with stained glass windows, then to an opening that appears to be the mouth of the other end of the cave. It keeps jumping around, showing you strange images of bustling towns, fantastic glowing mushrooms and flashing rivers, steaming magma near mechanical structures, soft snowfall on vasts forests, all underground. Somehow, all of these beautiful structures are contained by an earthen ceiling you can just make out in every image.

_Under the mountain?_

 

**Yes, my dear. Under the mountain.**

 

    Behind you, the static starts to fade, so slowly you don’t notice until you go to ask why you haven’t seen a single person in all these images. When there is no response, you spin quickly, trying to find the Static.

    It isn’t there, and all you have left are the screens, still cycling through images of this place, this prison. It looks awesome, but only the word’s second, less common meaning.

 

_Extremely impressive or daunting; inspiring great admiration, apprehension, or fear._

_…_

_How did this happen? Where is it?_

_Why?_

 

    You sit on the ground of the **Nothing** , settling back to watch the rest of the images as they go past. Each one impresses more firmly the wonder of the situation, but also the sadness of it. It’s hard to tell, but you too can almost feel the Everything crying out that this be rectified. That the people unseen be freed.

    You watch until your eyes lose focus and your consciousness slips away.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ooooohhhhhh boy do i love writing dream sequences! they're so weird nd fun! this is your warning that there are quite a few of them haha. I just love em :")
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> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	5. Chapter 4 - Advice and Anecdotes

    The rush of air and weightlessness are your first sensations before a very hard surface knocks you fully awake. Groaning between gasps of air, you try to get your bearings on your surroundings.

    It’s … hardwood underneath you, and something fuzzy tangled all around your arms and legs. It takes another moment of thought, slightly tainted by pain, before you remember falling asleep on the couch. You let yourself relax on the ground, as you try to remember what you had been dreaming of. Surely it must have been something upsetting to make you roll so much in your sleep.

    All you can grasp before even that fades away is rushing water, static, and the feeling of having been doing something important. And then it’s gone, and you’re left on the cold floor that had been covered in scraps of Christmas decorations, wondering what time it is and if you can go back to sleep.

    Picking yourself up, you try to sort out the mess of blankets you had tangled yourself in. It takes a moment, but then you’re sitting politely with a semi-folded blanket beside you and your phone in your hand. Clicking it on, you notice a handful of notifications, all from friends, and that your battery is dangerously low. Not that it’s a real issue, mind you, but just because it’s now Christmas-eve Day and you don’t have much going on, doesn’t mean you can get out of travelling to Jay’s to check on his dogs.

    You take a moment to respond to all of the “Merry fake Christmas!!” messages, spending a little extra time in the Jay/Monique group chat and then rise. Your first steps around the house are a little hesitant, your bones creaking from the uncomfortable ground you awoke on. Deciding to shower first, warm yourself, you run to your room and grab a change of clothing and the charger for your phone. It gets plugged in as the water heats up and then you are inside the warm stream, trying to get ready for the day.

    Surround by the sounds of rushing water, you wonder if maybe the strange holiday happenstance, as Jay called it, are just normal parts of ‘Adult Life’ you never noticed before.

 

    After getting out of the warm shower, you head to the kitchen to eat a small breakfast of kids cereal and juice. It’s not anything special, but it allows the morning to very quickly fall into your normal routine. You’re fed, the animals are fed, the thirsty plants watered, and because it is a Thursday, a load of unsorted laundry started.

    It’s all finished within a half hour, and by 9:30 you’re pulling on your boots to head out to Jay’s. Although he may not be paying you gas money, you were given free reign over the food stores and the dogs so like, this isn’t a bad arrangement in your opinion. Grabbing your phone charger and your laptop, you head out to your car and get started on your way.

    Although it’s a little colder today, the roads are less icy and the visibility is better. You breathe a sigh of relief that maybe for once you’ll be able to travel with an almost boring sense of repetition. You’d really appreciate at least one day where nothing happens. As the wheels spin and you maintain your grasp on the winter steering, your radio plays some older pop, new enough that it isn’t weird for you to know it, but old enough it’s a little retro.

    Bopping along to some good jams, you turn your car out of your cul de sac and out onto the roads near your house. Although it’s a holiday, it’s a pretty traffic heavy one usually. You decide to stay off the main roads for as long as you can by driving through the quieter residential zones. You figure that not a lot of people would bother with the hassle of crossing the river though, and especially not this early in the day. There’s plenty of good shopping on both sides.

    As you round your way through the final residential zone before you have to get onto a main road, you notice something odd - there’s a small motorcycle behind you. It’s not that you’re in a residential zone, no it’s that it’s the middle of winter.

_It’s literally still at least -10 right now, how is that person not freezing to death? Ugh, and all the snow i must be kicking up into their face… Such a bad idea._

    You flick you glance to the rearview mirror to check up on them every few seconds.

_Well, as dumb or as cold as it might be, bet they still look cool as hell._

    As you come up to the road you’ll need to turn onto, you flick your blinker on and slow. There's plenty more ice here than near your home, which you’re not quite prepared for, but you compensate enough to still be okay. From what you can tell, the traffic doesn’t look any worse than normal. That ice though… Somehow, you’re getting a bad feeling about this.

_I’ll be fine though._

    You take a breath, check the oncoming traffic to see if you can turn in and -

_*BWAAAAAAAAAAAW*_

    The jarring noise of a sudden horn makes your heart skip and every muscle in your body tense. Your eyes scan the area for the source as you struggle to regain regular breathing. There’s nothing in front of you, in fact, the traffic hasn’t even let up enough for you to safely cut in. To your side though, you see that motorcycle and it’s rider. The rider is lazily waving one arm, as if just to say hello. You gulp down more air and roll your window down to ask them what the fucking deal is. Just as your about to ask them a more polite version of your “What the absolute fuck?” thoughts, they cut you off.

    “i wouldn’t take the bridge if i were you.”

    Your eyes flick to the buildings blocking your view of the river and bridge across it. “Uh.”

    “no, i get it. not much that can be done if you have to get across the river today. i just maybe wouldn’t take _that_ bridge.” They shrug with one arm, the other holding them up on the bike.

    Squinting, you try to size the rider up. The advice is useful and just based on the road condition here, you might take just take it, but who is this person to give it anyway? Do you really look so incompetent that even this person has to go out of their way for you?

    The rider puts their arm back down but keeps turned toward you. It seems almost like an invitation to inspect them, so you do. The rider has a cool helmet covering their face which looks fairly fogged up, but also, a large, heavy navy coat. That would answer your question of how they can bear to be out in the cold unprotected by the four “walls” of a car or truck, but it raises a different one.

_Haven’t I seen that jacket before?_

_Heard that voice before?_

_Been saved from possible danger before?_

    You stare dumbly at the rider with the only sounds being those that your vehicle's make. You can only assume that the rider is staring back, the helmet at least doesn’t face elsewhere.

    The rider, the mysterious stranger, you assume, sighs in what sounds like frustration before turning back to the road ahead. “it’s icy. but if you decide to take it anyway - just be careful.”

    From your face hole, the one words come from, that one yes, a long, drawn-out “uhh” is born, and the rider turns slightly towards you. You can only guess that they’re judging you. If it was an anime, you’d bet real money they’d do the “tch” noise as they angle back forwards and speed off into a risky gasp in traffic.

    The moment they are across, they vanish from your sight.

    Your blinker is still clicking quietly, this old car doesn't have an automatic shut off. Still in a state of shock, you glance down and flick the blinker off.

_That was …_

_So weird …_

    You flick the blinker back on, but to turn the opposite way now. Fairly quickly, surprisingly, you find a gap and dart through. Even if it was unwelcome advice, and even if they weren’t the same stranger as before, maybe you _shouldn’t_ take this bridge. While you try to remember the best way to the next closest route over the river, you wonder what the chances of this being the same person are.

 

    This alternate route has more or less doubled your travel time, but the roads were almost totally empty. Even with the slick conditions, you do feel a lot safer when it’s more or less just you driving alone. As you pull into the guest parking for Jay’s building, a weird feeling that the moment you get out, the stranger will be back overtakes you. Quickly, you dart your eyes around the cold and frosty landscape. There’s … nobody around, thankfully. Even if it wasn’t a handful of days before a commercial holiday, nobody wants to be out in the snow.

    You sigh a breath of relief and take a moment to collect yourself before locking the car up and making a break for the building doors. Once you’re inside the first set of doors, you pull out Jay’s spare keys and let yourself into the apartment building. The halls inside were confusing your first few times trying to navigate, but you’ve had plenty of practice and make a beeline for the proper apartment on the main floor.

    As soon as you unlock the door to the apartment and pull the door closed behind you, both dogs are awake and up and running between your feet. Sophia and Chloe’s yapping is like cute music to your ears. You laugh, gently moving them out of your way so you can remove your jacket and boots. The girls run around, just so excited, and start bringing you their toys. It’s adorable, but seriously? Can you at least get 30 seconds first?

_Needy needy babies. I guess it’s a good thing I grabbed some stuff to do, they’re probably so lonely, only getting to see people twice a day._

    You sort yourself out and wander into the kitchen where Jay keeps their food and quickly fill up the bowl he has set out for them. The dogs are on the bowl in seconds, yipping happily as they devour what you set out. The scene is so cute that you can’t help but giggle a little. Leaving the dogs to their devices, you unpack your laptop and settle down on the couch. Chloe and Sophia will join you soon enough anyway.

    It’s a little too early to blast music, in your opinion, and you want to focus on the dogs, _not_ a movie or something. That said, it still feels too quiet in here without any other noise. You think for a moment, considering your options, before deciding to turn on the morning news.

_That’s still a thing right? Like there’s a news channel on tv that I can set it to?_

    You struggle to get the tv that sits in the corner of Jay’s living room to blink to life, and then spend a few minutes trying to remember which remote is the one you should be using for channel surfing. It doesn’t take _too_ long, but you do have to stop and get hints from Google at one point.

    About 20 minutes after letting yourself in, you’re settling down in a pile of dog toys with the morning city news broadcast playing over your shoulder. You don’t have it on very loud, just barely more than the dogs when they outright bark at you. You scold them, lightly, for making such noise but they’re just playing, and you’re not their puppy-parent. The worst you could do is leave, but you _just_ figured out the tv. So you keep the volume low and toss toys around with a grin on your face.

    The twins really are such friendly dogs, there’s a nice feeling that comes from entertaining them so entirely. You toss a stuffed pig over their heads and into the open washroom door, laughing gently as they scramble over each other to catch it and take it back to you. Once it’s been returned (more like wrenched from their baby jaws), you toss it again, this time into the open kitchen beside you. One of them, Sophia you think, ends up sliding a little too far and crashing into a table leg. The other grasps the pig and trots back to you, all pride and wagging tail.

    You look at the dog now sitting politely in front of you (which is definitely Chloe), and pull her into your lap for some gentle hugs/rough-housing. The other pup, as soon as she’s close enough, jumps into the play too. Quickly it devolves into puppy barks and thumping tails and a little too many claw marks for your liking, but it’s all in good fun.

    It’s tiring business though, and after a handful of minutes you pull yourself up onto the couch and flop down onto your side. The dogs quickly jump up to join you, but you don’t give them any more attention than a few lazy pats. Instead, you start consciously paying attention to the news broadcast. Right now, there’s a reporter talking a high school kid about one of the local schools. Something about drama in their lunch program? You didn’t go to high school in the city and don’t know anyone who currently does, so you’re pretty disconnected from those issues. That said, you don’t bother to grab your phone or change the channel.

    After a few more minutes of interviews and recounts of the events that apparently led to the closure of at least 2 district school’s cafeterias, it switches to the weather forecast. You don’t have anything really planned for the next week, other than drive out here to Jay’s. Your classes start up again on the eighth, leaving you plenty of time to lounge around. There is actually a job you could go work, but you saved all your paid vacation time to take the entire winter break off. If you went back now that would be like, the worst. You just want to go back to forgetting you normally have to work weekends, forgetting that you even have a job in the first place.

    The weather doesn’t look too bad for the next week at least. It’s going to be a little colder tomorrow, but clear skies, which means that the roads can be dealt with at least. The day after that, and the one after that too are both supposed to have “light flurries” but not be any warmer. That’s pretty good too, as strange as it might sound. It means that the snow that’s already on the ground won’t have any time to melt and then refreeze into ice. You just hope it doesn’t turn in a blizzard at all. The reporters and the weatherperson share a few quips about the cold and the holiday season, along with a comment about cold new years celebrations.

_Man, I sure hope everyone is back in time for New Year's Eve. The night wouldn’t be the same without my two dorks beside me._

    In a fairly smooth transition, one newscaster makes a comment about today’s weather, and then the other suggests a look at how it’s affecting the roads. You have to wonder how many times they’ve used that setup together. In any case, you start to pay a little more attention as the screen shifts to a traffic cam helicopter that’s making the rounds on busy roads. The road that loops around the main city has a couple small incidents on it, but that’s fairly normal. As far as the traffic reporter knows, they assure, nobody was seriously injured in any of those incidents. _That's a breath of fresh air,_ you think, as you watch the helicopter fly over to one road that intersects the city. For all that it isn’t a straight line through, and crosses the river twice, you sure are glad it’s there.

_It’s like a shortcut for your car._

_Which … is basically what all roads are, dammit._

    You listen carefully as they mention the construction just past your street’s access has caused the road’s traffic to slow significantly. That said, it’s been like this for a few months now, so it’s not like that’s atypical. That’s why, especially now that the roads are snow and ice covered, you don’t take it as much as you used too.

    The helicopter follows the road north until it comes to the first crossing of the river, which is on that bridge you were originally planning to take. From this bird’s eye view, you can see that the whole thing is basically gridlocked, even all the way up the winding and sharply angled valley access. The traffic reporter quiets for a moment, allowing viewers to see _why_ everything is so gridlocked - a number of small fender bender type incidents all leading up to a particularly large crash, about three quarters of the way over the river.

    Sharply, you gasp, flying back upright. You had known that _something_ had to have been wrong for you to have been cautioned away so determinedly, but you had let that blissfully fade from your mind until now. The reporter turns to the camera and speaks to their coworkers back in the studio.

    “As you can see, the weather conditions have made road traffic rather unsafe for the unsuspecting. Thankfully, the occupants of both vehicles did not sustain life threatening injuries, and as you might be able to see, there are crews on the ground working to opening up the road again.

    “For those of you that need to get across the river today, I’d suggest taking a different route and being as safe as possible. Back to you, Jaspreet.”

    One of the newscasters ( _...reporters? Which is it when they are inside instead of outside?_ ) thanks the traffic reporter and says something about current call-in’s from social media about today’s traffic. The screen cuts away to one just showing various testimonies about the roads, the various accidents, and about the bridges and where they came from. One stands out in particular to you though.

 **_Anonymous_ ** _via_ **_Text_ ** _: i’m just glad that there were less people on that bridge than there could have been. Nobody was hurt this time, but it could have gone a lot worse._

    The screen cuts away rather quickly at that point, with the hosts trying to make polite but positive statements and moving on to their next bit. You are only able to watch the screen in something like abject horror.

_It could have gone a lot worse._

    That image is stuck in your head.

_Could have gone…_

_A lot worse._

    One of the dogs manages to claw her way up to your shoulder from the back of the couch and that shakes you from your daze. You gently remove the offending canine and grab your phone from your pocket. Although this definitely qualifies as “weird holiday happenstance,” your hands are already calling Monique instead of Jay.

    “Hello? B?” Monique sounds a little concerned, but still cheerful.

    You take a deep breath before speaking. “Hey, Moni? I … There’s some shit going on. I-I almost got caught up in some real shit.”

    “Wait, what? What the fuck B, you can’t just start a conversation like that.” Everything coming out of her mouth is tinged in confusion. “Start from the beginning, okay?”

    “Okay,” you mumble and take another deep breath. “Okay, so, you know how bad traffic on the bridges gets? I was going to take the 104 street one while heading over to Jay’s.”

    She capitalizes on your pause to ask “What do you mean, ‘going to’?”

    “I’m mean I was _planning_ on it. But somebody warned me away, thankfully. I know you aren’t paying attention to the weather here, but the roads are so icy… I just saw on the news someone almost died in a crash, on the bridge _I_ was going to take, right when I was going to take it.”

    It’s hard to tell over the phone’s light static, and the still quietly playing dogs, but you think you just hear Monique’s breath catch. “Holy shit, are you sure you’re okay B?”

    “Yeah, I mean, other than being freaked out to all hell, I’m fine.” One of the dogs starts pawing at your leg, while the other drags a toy to your feet. They don’t really care that you’re in a crisis right now. “Some stranger on a motorcycle told me to take another bridge, right before I got on the 104.”

    “Wait, hold up, what the fuck?”

    “No Monique, you don’t quite get it yet. I think this was the same stranger who has been keeping me out of dangerous situations all week.” You’d barely told her that there had been incidents at all, and certainly not that there were real people involved. Based on the almost scream she lets out, she did not appreciate being left out.

    “What! The! Absolute! Fuck!! Bee!!! Are you fucking kidding me?” She pauses, but there’s a palpable tension and frustration in the air. Her voice is stoney when she speaks next. “Did you tell Jay?”

    You don’t respond immediately, which she takes as the yes it most certainly is not.

    “You’ve been the subject of the fucking hand of fate all goddamn week and you are still driving around and putting yourself in harm’s way. Un-fucking-believable. Neither of us are in the city right now, I’m basically as far away as I can possibly be, and now is when you get into some YA-novel shit; And you keep putting yourself in danger anyways!!”

    You cut her off, “Look, I’m fine Monique. You don’t need to get so upset.

    “No, no, no. I’m calling an emergency, text him and tell him that it’s an emergency and that he needs to get in on this call. Right. Now.”

    You navigate away from the call screen and pull up a text to Jay. You send about a billion in a row to get his attention first, and then relay the message. He almost immediately responds with a “Holy Fuck She’s Serious” and a few emojis. Back in the phone call you can hear Monique quietly stressing about your predicament. This is exactly why you didn’t tell her in the first place.

 

_If everyone knew I was losing my shit over being warned out of bad situations, then who the fuck would I be?_

_Monique is always overdramatic._

_I was just taking …. Good advice from good samaritans._

_And I’m fine, so like, it obviously isn’t a bad idea yet._

 

    After a minute, there’s a blink in the call as Jay tries to join. Monique quickly adds him and then dives right into chewing him out.

    “Jason Kane Vanderval how fucking _Dare_ you not tell me that our dear sweet Baby Bee is currently under fucking-divine-ass protection?”

    Jay sighs, clearly put out by this being his greeting. When he speaks, his words are already defeated. “Because Monique, you’d immediately assume it was something otherworldly and not just like weird coincidences. You know, like a rational human?”

    “He’s right Moni, this is kinda freaky but like before it was just coincidences. I didn’t want to like…” You pause for a moment, trying to think of something that can save Jay from a woman scorned’s wrath, while still keeping yourself out of harm’s way. “It’s only happened like twice now, let us live okay?”

    “B, you just told me that a stranger on a motorcycle told you to stay off a bridge and probably saved you from a life-threatening crash.”

    Jay squeaks a little. “I didn’t know that… When did that happen B?”

    Monique answers for you. “Just now. On their way to _your_ place, Jason.”

    He squeaks again, and you just sigh. At your feet, the dogs are getting insistent that you go back to playing with them. As your two best friends freak out over your head, you sit back down on the couch and lazily toss the stuffed pig.

    “Guys,” You start, forcing away your own emotions to try and calm your friends, “look, as weird as it might have been, I’m here and safe. No matter what lead to it, I didn’t get hurt at all. It’s all good. Really, just think of it as advice, but it’s just been coming from one person” you think “instead of many.”

    Through the phone call, you can hear Monique sigh, heavily. Jay does something similar, but it’s much quieter.

    Moni speaks first, “Look, just - this is weird and it really highlights how close we all get to getting hurt on a daily basis. Stay safe B, you’re too important to both of us.”

    Once she’s finished, Jay sighs again. “Honestly, this probably isn’t as weird as I guess all three of us are making it out to be. Moni is right though, be cautious out there. At least until we come home and can help watch each other’s backs okay?”

    “Yeah, B., you’ve had a lot of close calls in the past few weeks.” She sighs again, and even quieter than Jay, apologizes. “Look, I’m sorry for freaking out. I’m just … I still worry you know? The whole concussion thing was still so recent, I haven’t had a chance to calm down yet.”

    “I’m sorry too,” Jay says, a little distractedly. There’s some noise coming from his end of the call, but you can’t quite make it out. “Oh, okay, uhm. Sorry guys, I-something came up? I’ve got to bow out. I’ll be back soon though, so like… I’ll talk to you guys later.”

    You and Monique both say your goodbyes before Jay ends his side of the call, and it goes back to just being the two of you. There’s less background static now, and since Monique has calmed down some, it’s a lot nicer.

    “Okay well,” she starts, “I’m still not happy that you kept such vital knowledge from me, but it’s okay.”

    You just sigh. At least she’s not holding a grudge. Hopefully. “I didn’t think you’d be so upset, but I just didn’t want you to stress about it while you’re gone.”

    Monique bites back a sarcastic remark and takes a deep breath. “What did you expect me to do? I care about you, asshole.”

    You don’t really have a response for that, or at least not one that will make both of you feel worse, so you change the subject. “Do you want to know something even _he_ doesn’t know?”

    “What, you have even more going on than weird guardian angel - which, by the way, I actually have more questions about - and Christmas hype?”

    “Yes, actually,” The dogs are still nosing around your feet, but much calmer now. As you begin to wander the house, they follow dutifully. “I’ve been having really weird dreams for the past like, month. It started kinda weird and then totally escalated.”

    “Ohhh okay, that sounds interesting.” Monique’s always believed in things like the hand of Fate, destiny, or things vaguely supernatural. It seems you were right to guess this would be right up her alley. “Deets?”

    “Sure,” you pause to think. “From what I can remember it’s been mostly about like colours? I know that doesn’t make much sense, but…”

    She tuts and you can almost see her wagging a finger. “It’s a dream, it doesn’t have to make sense. It’s your subconscious interpreting the events and signs it receives but can't understand while awake. Tell me everything.”

    You make a loop through the kitchen and pass the dog’s food dish. They’ve managed to empty the dry food bowl already and for a moment you wonder whether their evening visitor has been giving them dry or wet.

    “Okay I know I made it sound super interesting or whatever but it’s kinda boring actually. I think I’ve been dreaming of places? I mean, people had to have been involved at some point in the dream, but all that really sticks with me are the places. Sometimes they’re buildings or rooms but other times its wide expanses. Every time though, they seem to have like a colour? Kind of like if there was a filter placed on a picture, but its everything.” You pause to take a breath and get her opinion on that. While she comes up with a response, you wander back to the couch and flop down on it.

    Eventually she sighs. “Well, that’s something, but … to be honest I think that those might be just dreams.”

    “Aww, what!” You kick your feet a little and it attracts the twin dogs to hop up beside you. “That’s lame!”

    “Lame or not, it’s probably just your brain showing you images of places with either a colour you strongly associate with it or the colour linked to an emotion you link to the place. Subconscious interpreting conscious images sure, but not anything light and divine.”

    You may have only brought them up as a distraction, but this is a disappointing reaction. “Are you sure? I can’t help but feel weird whenever I think about them.”

    “Oh, weird like how you have a mysterious stranger acting as your knight in shining armour?” She says, smug.

    “Okay! Well!” You don’t want to admit that she got you there, but, really she did. “Maybe. Look, I’ve already explained my reasons and, sure, they were dumb. That doesn’t mean I’m not telling you now though!”

    “It _does_ mean I can hold this against you.”

    “Please, Monique? Things are too weird now. What do I do?”

    “Well,” She sounds so tired. _Is this my fault?_ “I’m guessing you think the two are connected, right?”

    “Yeah,”

    “Unless you’re keeping more things from me, it doesn’t sound like they are. But, I do think it’s really really weird that suddenly your life is being visibly put in danger just as this person shows up. There might not be a correlation, but …” She trails off. You can guess what she’s going to say next.

    You decide to get the first word on this. “Monique, I’m already a hermit, do you really think staying inside all day would help?”

    “No!” There’s silence. “...yes? If these meetings are someone messing with the universe’s plan for you, then why not make it easier to keep you safe and alive?”

    You’re quiet for a moment, thinking. “But what if they are the person causing it?”

    “Then keep your doors locked.” She retorts. “Look, there's a chance that this is all coincidence, and I’d still suggest not leaving the house more than you have too. Accidents happen, you know?”

    That was very reasonable advice, and very responsible too. It’s --

    “Lame!” You cry out. “That’s so boring!”

    Monique sighs, obviously tired of your shenanigans. It's not even noon yet.

    “Okay well, it may be lame but I’ll do it. It’s not like I really talk to anyone else anyways,” you mention. You don’t mean for it to sound put-out, but it might have come across that way. “If I’m stuck inside keeping safe, then you have to stay safe out there too, okay?”

    She chuckles a little, but that same weariness never goes away. “Sure, sure B. I’ll keep safe. Are you good now? Do you want me to stay on the line?”

    “No, no.” You sit up from the couch and ruffle the fur of one of the dogs. “I think I’m okay now. I’m going to stick around here for a while and then head home I think.”

    You both say your goodbyes and she hangs up the call. You continue to sit on the couch, dogs jumping in and out of your lap while the news still quietly plays in the background. There’s no remnants of the accidents you nearly added yourself too. There’s no remaining talk of strangers and fate and the cold.

    You pick a stray toy off the ground and toss it for the dogs who grab it, but are slower about it. Everything seems to have slowed down. There’s been so much, all over again. A week of just so _much_. While the dogs are gone, you lie back down. Whether you sleep or not, whether this is all fate or not, whether you are actually in danger or not - you just want to lie down for now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> there are 2 more chapters before getting into the underground, in case anyone was curious! less than about 2 weeks from now (as long as i keep up the every 5 days updates), you'll get the first chapter with my absolute fav of a character : )))))) <3
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	6. Chapter 5 - Christmas and Crashes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey this chapter has reader witnessing a small car crash. although the text may be ambiguous, i wont. Nobody is hurt and the reader isn't actually involved, so here is your warning.

    Unfortunately, sleep never comes. Chloe keeps worming her way under your hands to try and get you to pet her. Sophia, the other dog, just sits on your feet. She barks when you move them too much, annoyed with the disturbances. After maybe an hour of lying like this, trying to find some peace in your life, you heft yourself up and start cleaning up your belongings.

    Everything you brought goes back into your backpack except your phone and your key to Jay’s apartment. You put your stuff near the door and go find the dog treats for Sophia and Chloe. It _is_ Christmas eve, as much as you may keep forgetting that fact. You decide that they deserve a treat.

    With one weird smelling dog snack administered to each of them, you’re out the door and on your way back home. As you walk towards the parking lot, you scan various map-apps for what appears to be the safest route. You settle on one that takes you far to the east end of the city, basically out and around, but you only really have to follow one road that's usually very safe.

_With any luck, I’ll be home in an hour_

    You turn on the directions over top of some light music, just in case. You’re not usually one to pray, but … it’s Christmas Eve. C’mon.

_Let me get home safe._

  


    Your house is cold when you make it back there. All the lights are off, your cat is hiding somewhere, and there’s complete silence. You shrug off your outer clothing and run to your room to change back into your pyjamas. It may feel pretty empty, but you’re determined to have at least a little comfort on such an evening.

    All the blankets you can spare are used in creating a nest on the couch, there are snacks placed on the coffee table, and you have all the Christmas lights turned on. This is going to be one hell of a night.

    …

_Maybe I could use more friends._

    But that is neither here nor there. You pull the blankets tight around you and bring up an old favourite on Netflix. It's only mid-afternoon, but you’re in this for the long haul and by long haul, you mean hopefully fall asleep by 8 and not wake up until about 8 Am tomorrow.

    As the show loads, you send a text to your group chat with Jay and Monique. They’re both doing nothing, you quickly find out, so you organize a long distance multiplayer phone game. It’s nice being able to hang out with your friends from across the country. You still wonder if maybe you should get some more friends, more people that you can hang out with, but it’s nice to spend time with the ones you already have.

    Eventually, they both log off and you’re left alone with your show. The night is coming to a close. You’re pleased with it, this is one good holiday season. Your heart twangs for a moment when you remember it might be better if your friends were here, but it's okay. This is enough for now. Pepper jumps up onto the couch and begins to purr as she tunnels under your hands. This is enough.

    Should you move back to your bedroom to sleep? Pepper meows as if in response to your internal questions, and you decide she's right. This is good.

    For tonight, this is enough.

  


    There’s a river in front of you. It flows peacefully in the soft light of the cave. The bench you're sitting on sways slightly, as it floats several feet above the ground. You are the one who decided to make it float so that you could swing your feet under it. You quite like this bench.

    The lights of the crystals and mushrooms around this cave, as well as small lamps sitting all over give your room a warm, teal glow. The small pale fish glint in the light as they swim and the scurry of small feet can be heard as mice and other such creatures travel the Underground.

    You’ve been here hundreds of times before and you’ll be here a hundred times more. As you swing your feet, you watch them shift through every form they’ve ever had. So many possibilities! You can’t help but giggle at this.

    It’s just so peaceful here, every time you’ve seen it. You’re glad that this is your constant, your grounding location. What a beautiful dream.

    Eventually, though, you tire somewhat of the peace. You aren’t craving Chaos, per se, just some adventure. At your wordless command, those pale fish gather together and form a boat. Each individual creature swims in time as it is lifted out of the water and up to your bench.

_“Ride with us, won’t you? Oh, ride, ride, ride with us.”_

    A smile graces your lips and with all the poise of a monarch of old, you rise and take your spot at the helm of the iridescent living boat. As you settle, the fish that create what was little more than a raft, solidiy and transform further. It turns into a pirate ship, powerful and awesome and white as bleached bone.

    You’ve captained this schooner before, though that was a thousand worlds away in a time that is neither here nor there. Your crew will not be joining you now.

_That is fine, I need only shrink this ship to direct it, and it shall do the rest._

    As your thoughts form words inside your head, the boat does indeed shrink, as do you, to the size of a child’s toy. This size has much better chances of being able to navigate the rivers and streams of this cave system.

    You take your place at the wheel and grasp it tightly. At your again wordless command, the sails unfurl and shift direction for you to best catch the slight breeze coming off the clear water. With your preparations complete, you begin the journey towards something new.

    The snowy banks of home are familiar, too familiar, and so instead you turn the nose of your boat towards the heat and fire of the deep city. Water shifts and tumbles, glinting under the crystals and bioluminescence. You pass familiar places, known only to you in this dream.

    Every now and then you hear music mixed with the rushing and falling water. It makes your heart cry out and the whole ship quivers beneath you, sharing that ache. Even in dreams, you are not alone with your sadness.

    After what could have been seconds, or could have been decades, you reach the point where the water stops flowing towards your destination. Your wordless command raises the ship from the water and speeds it through the open air to its new destination. A river of glowing reds and oranges greets you as your ship lands gently inside it.

    Your ship is not wood, nor is it bone or metal, it simply is. No heat could break it without you willing it so.

    “ _So warm, so nice, let us ride further, deeper, deeper, deeper.”_

    You are basking in the warmth of this beautiful dream as you ride. From this vantage point, you are unable to see the expansive sea net of this area, but you don’t mind. For now.

    You and your ship discuss many things. It always repeats important words a few times in this comforting whisper. Like every dream though, not everything makes sense.

    “ _Beware the man who speaks in hands, hands, hands._ ” Your ship whispers as it crests a particularly large magma wave. “ _Beware the man who comes from another world, different world, new world._ ”

    “Oh, but why?” You ponder. Giggling, you ask another question. “Would he be more trustworthy if he spoke in feet?”

    “ _You’ll lose sight of yourself to his cause, you’ll go where it is darker, oh darker, and yet darker just to save us._ ”

    “I don’t think that’d be so bad.”

    Eventually, however, even the tossing and turning of the magma beneath you is not enough to satisfy you and you will your ship to take to the air again. At your call as always, it raises above the river, above the ground, nearly to the ceiling of this cave and begins to drift. Buffeted by the warm currents of air colliding with the cold that flows in from elsewhere, you are gently rocked.

    From this new location, you feel you can see everything. You watch as small persons, barely more than ants to your eyes, walk from place to place. Some settle in buildings or on outcropping to just hang out, you assume. One though, catches your eyes. Stark white on deep navy, turned almost magenta by the glow of the caves.

    You will your boat closer, and it obliges easily. Completely focused, you can’t tear your eyes away until it, _he_ looks at up at you. And you wake up.

  


    You’re getting better at remembering your dreams. Case and point, as you woke up today, you rolled yourself right off the couch again, but you can still remember a ship, a sense of calm, and a flash of navy. As you untangle your limbs from the mess they got in as you woke, you try to consider what this might mean.

    It’s nearly impossible though, and by the time you’ve gotten up and made your way to the kitchen for breakfast, even those hints are fading. That’s okay though, you have plenty of other things to think about today. You’re two spoonfuls into a bowl of cereal when you remember that it’s Christmas Day, _finally_. It almost feels like it took two years to get to this point.

    You scramble to finish your breakfast before going back to the living room where you’ve been sleeping this past week and try to find your phone in the mess of blankets. Once you get your hands on it, saving it from its place between the couch cushions, you send out a few different text blasts. One to any family you have in your contacts, politely lamenting how you won’t see them this year; one to your classmates wishing them happy holidays and good luck in the coming semester; and one to your group chat with Moni and Jay, telling them to wake the fuck up because you want to open your gifts and spend a little time chatting.

    Monique is the first to respond, it’s nearly 10 where she is so she has been up for a few hours, you assume

  * Bee Baby Buddy: y’all wake UP i wanna do GIFTS
  * Money Honey: gooooooood morning!!!
  * Money Honey: Merry Capitalist Christmas you fools!
  * Bee Baby Buddy: Did ur family already do yours?
  * Money Honey: Absolutely.
  * Money Honey: Dad was the last one awake n he was still up @ like 730
  * Money Honey: Christmas Is No Joke
  * Bee Baby Buddy: heart eyes emoji



    God’s above, how you wish that was you. Festive and able to be satisfied by the recommended 9 hours of sleep? A faint far off dream. You are a little surprised to hear that Monique _has_ been up for at least 3 hours though.

  * Jay-Jay Binks: did you just type “heart eyes emoji”
  * Bee Baby Buddy: shut mouth
  * Jay-Jay Binks: m awake at the tndr hour of 8:21 A M
  * Jay-Jay Binks: and ur bein mean t me
  * Bee Baby Buddy: sad face emoji
  * Money Honey: Didn’t you want to open gifts?
  * Bee Baby Buddy: dab emoji
  * Bee Baby Buddy: yes



    You divebomb off the couch and onto the ground beside the Christmas tree you had decorated a few days prior. There were a few small packages under it, things given to you by your housemates when they were last home and your friends over the past month. Beside it was the large but strangely light box you had picked up from Monique’s and a few things you had ordered online and decided to wrap for yourself.

    You pick up one of the small rectangular packs from your relatives and give it a light shake before sending a picture of it to the group.

  * Bee Baby Buddy: Any guesses ?
  * Jay-Jay Binks: gift cards or pokémon cards
  * Money Honey: mmm magic the gathering cards!
  * Jay-Jay Binks: but they already hav a collection of poke cards
  * Money Honey: Exactly.



    You open it to find a gift card to the e-shop on your video game console of choice, and some magic the gathering cards. Wild.

  * Bee Baby Buddy: mtg and 60$ for a new video game
  * Bee Baby Buddy: so one point to each of y’all.
  * Jay-Jay Binks: :o by smthn gd
  * Bee Baby Buddy: can i buy a vowel
  * Jay-Jay Binks: r00de
  * Money Honey: Okay me next!!



    The three of you went on like this until there was nothing left. Both Jay and Monique has opened most of their gifts already, but in the four years you all had been an inseparable trio, this is how you did the gifts to and from each other. Because you were left alone this year, you decided to have them guess the contents for everything just for fun.

    You and Moni had decided in a separate conversation to save the extra large gift you had gotten from her until they were both back so that you and Jay could both open them at the same

    time. You had tried to squeeze any information you could from her on what was inside but she wasn’t talking. In the end, though, you felt nothing but love and joy at the things your friends had decided to give to you.

    Eventually, they both have to leave to go do other activities and you’re left alone. All in all, you got a handful of silly nick nacks, a hand-made sweater from your mom, a number of collectable cards for games you don’t play, and some gift cards for various stores that you will use fairly soon. But getting is not everything, you also gave some gifts that you were very proud of like some personalized art and merch for obscure games or movies.

    It’s still early so you don’t really want to clean it up right now. There’s no tinsel and your tree has survived thus far, so you highly doubt the cat is going to destroy the whole thing if you dip for a few hours. At the very least, you decide to pile up the small bits of wrapping paper so it’ll be easier to deal with later.

    You also try your best not to look at this small pile and remember how empty your house is on this day. Why not, you consider, go to a place where it is not as empty? Jay had said that you wouldn’t have to worry about feeding his dogs on Christmas but you’re in the mood for puppies.

    As you grab your jacket and try to find a phone charger to bring with you, you pull open your phone and dial your mother’s number. It rings out and is sent to voicemail. You sigh, but didn’t expect anything else, so you collect yourself quickly and start talking.

    “Hey Mom. It’s me, I wanted to wish you a Merry Christmas! Grandma too … Thank you for the gifts! It was really smart of you to send everything so far in advance, and I’m sorry if my stuff to you hasn’t arrived yet. Don’t worry, it should get there soon if that’s the case. I love you!”

    You pause and try to think of what’s good to leave in a voicemail that probably won’t be listened to anyways. Your free hand continues with its task of getting you ready to leave the house.

    “This semester of classes went really well, which is good since I’m so close to grad. I’ll try and make out this summer and I’ll bring some paintings for you guys. Work has been going pretty well too, though I did take this week off to just try and rest. I hope you guys have had a restful holiday as well and that I hear from y'all soon.

    “Best wishes, holiday greetings or whatever. Bye, Mom.”

    It’s not perfect, but at least you can say you tried to get a hold of her, and you send a text saying that you left her a voicemail. That's better than nothing right? You brace yourself against the door to unlock it and then go out into the cold of the day.

  


    The roads are much emptier than days previous, and you make it to Jay's house in record time. The further downtown the more congested it had gotten, but even that was only a fraction of how bad it normally is. Just as you had been told, there is evidence of another person being in just a bit earlier to feed the dogs, but you're not here for that. Instead, you drop to your knees and let the little creatures jump all up over you and you try to lose yourself in their love and affection. Enjoying this is the least you deserve today.

    You let them crowd around your feet and get excited about the company before charging through to take a moment getting comfortable in Jay’s apartment. Your jacket is sling over the back of a random chair, your bag deposited on the couch, and some dry snacks raided from his cupboards. The dogs are bringing their toys and depositing them at your feet, waiting for you to play with them.

    It's cute that they do this, and you happily comply for a while. Tossing toys and playing tug of war while some random youtube video plays in the background is entertaining for a while. As the minutes tick by into an hour though, something begins to dawn on you.

    Your voice echoes around the room as you talk to the dogs at an almost unnatural level. The emptiness of the space feels claustrophobic and you find yourself growing louder and louder almost as a way to fill it. The videos you put on are decidedly not Christmas related, and usually not group videos.

    As the first hour bleeds into the second you put a name to the growing unease. It's not just loneliness, it's personalized and vindictive exclusion. All of your friends were gone and you were left here.

    Of course, _you_ could have gone east to visit your family. You booked all that time off of work, and your mom probably would have covered some of the costs of a plane if you had asked. What was stopping you?

    You created this loneliness yourself.

    But that doesn't make it feel like all your friends chose to leave you behind any less.

    By the time the second hour is bleeding into the third hour you're trying your very best to shut your brain off and just play with the dogs. You're entirely overreacting, so look at this puppy. And then all of a sudden the puppies aren't working and you just want to crawl into bed and sob and wail and you know no one will be home to judge you except your cat and you're packing your bags and …

    And you're forcing the emotions down while you lock the door.

    And you're wiping your face as you walk through the building.

    And you're trying to even your breathing while you brace against the cold till you're back to your car.

    And you sling your bag into the backseat and toss yourself into the front.

    It’s not upsetting, really, you try to tell yourself. You’re just overreacting. What’s one day compared to the years and years you’ve had with your friends? Besides, if you _really_ really cared, maybe you would have gone back to your mom as well. Since you didn’t, you don’t care, right? It’s just one day.

    It’s just one day.

    It's only _one_ day, and you have so many, but here you are sobbing into your steering wheel and wondering if you can get away with picking up alcohol on your way home. Something that won't make you feel like death in the morning, but hopefully altering enough that you can pretend it hasn’t been a week and a half since you last saw anyone you actually know and this isn’t the day of one of the largest family holidays in the western world. Huh, maybe you do want to feel like death in the morning. Maybe that would be better than this.

    You do your absolute best not to hit the horn while you gently bring your forehead down to rest on the wheel. _I’m just overreacting_ , you whisper like a mantra until eventually there are no more tears left to cry.

    Nothing has really changed but the car feels fucking cold. You do your best to not look at the clock, trying to will the past few minutes out of existence by ignoring them. Flipping down the visor and using the mirror to wipe your face, you get yourself back into an approximation of “okay” looking. You don't want to turn on music at first, when you do finally start the car, but it's too quiet when it's just you and your thoughts so you hit random shuffle and let it go. It's a long few more minutes until the window has defrosted enough that you're willing to start driving again but you manage to keep yourself intact.

    The roads are less empty now, but still fairly clear. As soon as you turn onto the roads to get home you're met with a few scattered, but packed-full vehicles carrying families to further Christmas related destinations. You don't mind them, letting them pass you and speed off to wherever they're headed. Despite how much faster it is, you're still avoiding the bridge in the city centre. A part of you wants to take it, but that's the same part of you that wants to see just how many people will cry when your body gets dragged out of the frozen water, so you don't listen to it. You very pointedly don't listen to it.

    Driving the long way around, you keep the music just loud enough that you can hear it under the rumble of the car. It’s like you’re on autopilot as you make it to the far bridge, things are happening around you but you don’t pay them any thoughts unless absolutely necessary. The bridge is easy to cross, especially since from this angle you can’t see the water at all. You’d like to keep it that way, so other than to check your mirrors, you don’t take your focus off the pavement ahead of you until you’re far away.

    As you drive, you wonder when he’s going to show up. You know he’s out there, a hallucination or not. That person, in the navy coat, just waiting to warn you away from some unseen danger. On one hand, protection is nice but on the other, you resent the interference. It was annoying to have someone stepping in when things were just about to get good. You keep your eyes open watching for him. Watching for the danger that would bring him around.

    You're nearly home when you spot him. Taking a slight detour you had pulled into the parking lot of a shop complex to pick up some alcohol. Sure it might be juvenile to drink away your problems, but that was your choice to make. Before you can pull out of the parking lot, right as you get up to the turn out he walks up to your car.

    The figure in the blue coat is missing the big helmet that he'd had last time, but instead, he has the more vibrant scarf tied tight around his face. You're already scowling when he raps on the window, getting you to lean over and roll it down.

    “i'd wait a little bit longer before heading out again.” He makes it seem nonchalant but you're annoyed.

    “Why?”

    He just shakes his head at you, unwilling to explain more and you’re not in a mood to let that pass. You pull your foot slightly off the brake and the car rolls a few inches forward.

    Immediately the stranger yelps. “stop!”

    You smirk as he moves slightly to be looking directly at you again. It's hard to tell, but under that scarf he looks to be very pale.

    “seriously, just like wait.”

    You cock an eyebrow. “Tell me why and maybe I will?”

    “it's just,” he pauses and looks out at the road. You don't notice in time before something makes a horrible noise and you barely hear him whisper over it.  “it's dangerous.” The grating of metal on metal is like sirens, the only thing you can focus on now that you’ve heard them.

    Ahead of you, someone had driven into the oncoming traffic and seemed to have crashed the front of their vehicle into a pole. As soon as your eyes make sense of this you turn back to him, glare even stronger. “Explain how you knew that.”

    The figure raises a gloved hand.

    “No, explain that or I will join them in that wreck and obviously you don't want that. I want to know why.” The car rolls another inch forward.

    “wait, there's one more.”

    Your eyes dart back to the crashed vehicle just in time to watch a second car try to slow down or swerve around the back end of the first and not make it in time. The sound of their vehicle scraping against the first is not over fast enough. It reminds you of that styrofoam scraping that makes you sick to your stomach.

    It was hard to make out, but you think that the second driver was messing with something beside them or on their console, too distracted to see what was ahead of them. As they fling open the door to get out, music loud enough you can hear it from here filters through to your ears. There is a pit of anxiety growing in your heart, wondering if they’re going to be okay. Wondering why just you was warned out of this event, why not the other people.

    A car behind you, whether it saw this event or not, honks at you and you're reminded that you are sitting right at a corner, right in people’s way. You lean over again and shove the side door open. “Get in, you’ve got some explaining to do.”

    The stranger hesitates as any rational person would, but when the car behind you honks again, he jumps in and slams the door shut. You take one look into the oncoming traffic and make a quick turn, followed by another and another until you’re back in that parking lot.

    While it’s not particularly busy, this side is mostly full so you slow the car down and begin to coast till you find an open spot on the other side. Almost casually, you turn down the radio and glance at your passenger. “So, mind explaining what that was about?”

_Man, annoyed and depressed me is getting Sassy._

    “i was just being a good samaritan.” The stranger shrugs as they roll the window back up. “being a good person.”

    “I feel like a good person would have tried to stop the crash from happening altogether.” You pass a spot that had looked empty only to find two motorcycles parked in it instead. Ugh. “Seriously, are those people going to be okay?” You demand.

    “yeah, they're gonna be fine. minor scrapes.” The stranger shrugs, toying with the ends of his scarf. “only would have gotten dangerous if you had gotten involved.”

    You let out a grunt. That's frustrating information, but if you let yourself believe him that they're okay, then it'll be okay. That doesn't answer the rest of your questions though.

 _God this whole situation is so weird,_ you realize as you look for a different parking spot. _I probably seem like some sort of creep making him get in with me!_

    You resolve to find a spot in this somehow, suddenly massively full parking lot, and make sure he knows he can leave if he gets uncomfortable.

    “So how do you know it would have gotten dangerous if i had gotten involved anyways?”

    “company secrets,” the stranger shrugs again. You can hear the beginnings of a smile in his voice. “hey it's a little warm in here, mind if i take the scarf off?”

    You hadn't thought it was warm, but whatever. You wave your right hand and give a distracted sure, who cares as you pass another spot that looks empty. At the last second you realize it's got a ridiculously small car in it. _What is that,_ you wonder, _a car for ants?_

    The stranger interrupts your comical internal voice by clearing his throat. “i’m sans by the way.”

    “Sure, sure. Call me B,” you respond still paying more attention to the parked vehicles around you. Seriously, how did it get so full in the last like ten minutes? You weren't even in that shop for that long. Did you just happen to get really lucky that first time you parked in here so you didn't notice how busy it was?

    The stranger - Sans clears his throat again and this time you finally glance over to him.

 

    “Oh I’ve got to be hallucinating.”

    “yeah, sans for short. but i'm sans the skeleton.”

    In front of you is a skeleton, you guess, but not in the way you’d normally think of them. You can totally see why you thought he just had pale skin before, but obviously that's wrong. He’s not ghost rider, the skull is not realistic but it does remind you of that. Instead it’s a little bit flatter, wider, mimicking the look of chubby cheeks but assumedly, with bone. His eyes, or at least, what you’d think of as eyes, are black voids with white pinpricks of light. That smile is bright, but from the tone of voice you’d guess it's more smug than anything else. Along the edges of his eyes a spider web of cracks are obviously forming and you have to wonder what caused them.

    All in all, it’s fucking wild that this person is sitting in your passenger seat.

    You falter for a moment before the words just sort of spew out of you. “This might sound callous, but … you’re … not human?” it lilts up like a question though you both know that it’s just a statement.

    Sans laughs in response.

    It speeds out again with more force. “You’re not human. Dude, you’re like an alien or some shit? Or like..? Fuck what if you’re a demon? What if big religion is real?”

    He laughs harder.

    “No dude? Seriously? What?? What is going on.”

    A car behind you honks its horn and you scramble to pull forward and out of their way so they can find a spot while you take a second to freak out. Seriously, why is everyone honking at you?? Can’t they see you’re going through something?

    Finally Sans grants you mercy from your rambling thoughts as you turn back to face him. “i’m a monster.” It’s said so matter of fact that you can’t dispute it, even mentally any more. Silence takes over.

    For a moment the monster mash starts to play in your head. “So…” You trail off for a second, “Your name isn't really Sans the Skeleton is it? Please say no.”

    He chortles a little and you see how flexible that skull of his is. “nah, that'd be too on the nose, and since i don't have one…” Sans trails off, you think that might have been an attempt at a joke. “no, i'm sans font.”

    “Is that… is that french?” Does he mean like a typing font? Please don't be that, please don't mean his name is a joke on typefaces.

    Sans shrugs and silence takes you both over again.

    “So,” you try again, deafened by the quiet, “where on this beautiful Earth I call home do you hail from?”

    He chuckles again, but it’s hushed. Quieted, like he is trying to keep positive about something painful. “do you mean where _i_ come from? or monsters in general?”

    You shrug, “whatever you feel most informed about.”

    “well,” he leans back slightly and taps a boney finger to his chin. “‘monsters used to be as widespread as you humans, maybe even more so. but personally, i’m from mt. ebott.”

    Now that doesn't sound right so you sit for a minute to think. He doesn't seem bothered by the silence, just continues to play idly with the fringe on his scarf. Even if Sans was looking uncomfortable you don't think you'd force a conversation just yet. It's a fucking bombshell to drop on you, all of this and you deserve some time.

    It’s not like you can tell him he’s wrong when he seems to be proof of _something_ , but the longer you think about it, the more sure you are there are no settlements around Mt. Ebott. At one point there had been a small mining town there, you remember because you had family that lived nearby on a farm, but once the mine shut down it became a ghost town. Excluding that mined section, the whole area was considered untouched nature. Nothing had been there since the indigenous populations had been pushed west by the encroaching white settlers.

    You’re maternal great grandmother had lived near the town, an immigrant and a farmer’s wife. Your grandmother had left, after her siblings had all disappeared or died. It was a different time back then, she’d always say. They might have just run off and never contacted anyone again, but your great-grandmother’s depression over the loss and probable death of her seven kids drove your grandmother to run away too. She didn’t like talking about the past, but made sure that all of her kids, and then her grandkids, and likely eventually her great-grandkids, knew where the family had come from.

    Your thoughts gently slip away and you turn to Sans again. “How can that be true? My family once lived in that area and most of it is untouched wilderness.”

    He closes one eye, slowly, dragging the action out. “you’re right, there’s no one on the land, but consider, being _under_ it.”

    The pistons and gears in your brains stop. You can feel your jaw drop slightly as your eyes mechanically search his face for any indication that he’s being untrue. It’s not like you can use the normal tells, there’s no twitching of the eye, no slight shift of the lip through teeth, no sudden slight sheen of the skin. He’s just a skull with glowing pinpricks of light for “pupils”. You honestly can’t tell if he’s giving you lies.

    “it’s not like we _want_ to be down there. you can’t choose where you’re trapped.”

    That word sticks out. Trapped? It feels familiar, sickening, realistic, and constricting. You force your mouth shut.

    Sans looks at you, bemused probably, before continuing. “can you imagine a whole civilization trapped under a mountain? we may be fewer in numbers, but that’s a full culture locked away underground. it doesn’t shock me that all the humans moved away, even the ground couldn’t forget the horror of what had happened to the monsters.”

    The words “locked” and “trapped” ring like bells in the back of your head as he talks.

    “but that’s not quite fair, is it? it’s not like you could do anything to change it. especially now that i’m here.”

_I don’t understand what he’s implying, but there’s a double meaning here. I can feel it._

    “What do you mean, ‘Now that I’m here’?” If you can figure out what’s going on without giving your complete incomprehension away, you’d prefer to do that. But the more you think about it, if monsters are ‘trapped’ then _how_ is he here in the first place? What is this supposed to mean?

_All I know is the person sitting across from me at this table isn’t human. That's pretty well, all I know, like ever. He might not even be real, but he ain’t human._

    He chuckles a little, those bright white pupils vanishing as the seemingly solid bone closes over his eye-holes. It looks so strange, but so familiar. “well i’m not really supposed to be here right now. i may be from under mt. ebott, but i’m not from your mt. ebott.”

_What the fuck is that even supposed to mean?_

    You narrow your eyes at him, a little frustration leaking into the confusion.

    Eyes still closed, Sans lifts his shoulders and wrists up in a shrug, grin shifting slightly so the shit-eating factor is turned up to a ten. After a moment of you almost glaring at him, a single eye pops open and it’s hard white light inspects your face.

    “well you know that you’re not in the only universe, only reality, don’t you? i guess you’d also be right to call me a monster _and_ an alien since i’m not from yours.”

    You just narrow your eyes even further.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> my mom and my sister are helping me set up a garden today and i nearly forgot to post this haha! Im gonna have potato plants and i have never been so excited 0u0
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> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	7. Chapter 6 - Power and Purpose

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey warnings of a bit of a breakdown, and a number of time skips. for reference, the chapter starts where the last left off, on dec 25th.

_What in the fuck does that even mean, ‘Not from yours’? What sorta cryptic bullshit is this hallcination-esque skeleton man trying to feed me?_

 

    You bring a single finger out and just hold it in front of his face. Even if he hadn't just said the most fucking crazy shit possible, you need a moment to process. A bunch of shit has happened lately, you’re still just sitting in your car waiting in the parking lot to see if you need to talk to any cops about that accident, you had to deal with crushing loneliness, you probably slipped and fell on the ice somewhere and are now in a coma, hallucinating. You just need a _moment._

    “So what does that _mean_.” You nearly reach out to give a threatening poke before you realize that would require pushing into his personal bubble, and anyways, you have no idea if his body works like that? You decide that a threatening glare is the best you can offer right now, and give it heartily. “I would like … a better explanation than that.”

    His face is more malleable than it appears, and you continue to glare as he leans back and gives you a telltale smug smile. It's annoying how much he obviously thinks he has the upper hand. “i’m sure you're aware that there are multiple realities out there. i’m a traveller, here to right the wrongs of this universe.”

    “Oh just build your own ego there, that's cool,” you mutter under your breath as you finally find a spot to park into. As soon as the car has stopped moving you undo your seatbelt and move the seat back so you can stretch out your limbs a little. “You certainly look weird enough to be some sort of inter-dimensional traveller.”

    Sans’ smug grin disappears as he seems to laugh genuinely. “haha, okay. you got me there.” He brings one boney hand up to run over the cracks emanating from his left eye. “i’ll do my best to explain it then. there's something wrong in this reality, this timeline is missing something and my old man and i are doing our best to fix it.”

    You look at him, a skeleton sitting in your passenger seat, telling you that there's something wrong with your universe and he's supposed to fix it. After the day you've had, this is just a cherry on top. You're just so tired. “What the fuck does that even mean? And why are you sitting here telling me?”

    His smug look is back, but at least he continues talking through it. “let me  _hammer_ out the details. in most versions of existence, a child enters a place called the **underground**  and works together with the inhabitants to free them from it. as you can probably tell, that hasn't happened here.”

    “Is everyone in this **underground** as skeletal as you?” You ask, trying to give him the benefit of the doubt.

    He laughs again. You wonder if it's a deflecting method. “nah, it can get pretty _bone_ ly being the only handsome one. though, none of us look as boring as you. anyways, you can see the **underground**  hasn't been opened here and if things continued, it never would be. the child just doesn't seem to exist in this timeline for some reason.”

    That piques your interest slightly. This drive home has been very stressful and weird and you sort of just wanted to ride it out so you could go home and cry in peace, but you had to admit you were slowly getting committed to at least hearing the rest of the story.

    Sans’ smug smile doesn't resurface yet but you can still hear it in his voice. “i’m talking to you because your soul feels about the closest i can get to frisk’s here.”

    “Frisk?” Okay, you're invested. It's just so weird and maybe, just maybe, it’ll distract you for long enough you can stop thinking about your break down earlier.

    He sighs, closing his eyes again. They stay closed as he talks. “frisk is usually the name of the kid. even if it isn't their legal name, ninety-nine runs out of a hundred, that's what they preferred to be called. some souls don't change much.”

    Alright, you don't really know what he means by soul, but there are some hard facts for you. It all sounds kinda familiar though like you should know this story. Like someone has told you this recently and you only _just started_  to forget it.

    “anyways,” one eye pops back open and a pinprick of light stares at you. “since frisk isn't around, and you're just a normal human, dad and i gotta keep you safe while we try to break down the barrier ourselves.”

    “Why?” you lean forward onto your knees, taking advantage of the extra space to get comfy. “What was it about Frisk that was so special?”

    Sans also takes a moment to get more comfortable, leaning as far back as he can and resting his hands on his stomach. You're almost worried he's about to fall asleep but at the last second, he opens his left eye again to watch you. You wonder if the cracks on the right make it harder to use or maybe even painful.

    “frisk is a great little kid. literally haven't come across a timeline where i don't like ‘em. sometimes i've got a problem with their _friends,_  but never frisk. so it's not that i don't trust whichever soul has this power, it's just i don't know if _you_ know you have it and that's worrying.

    “see if frisk or one of their friends ever got hurt, frisk had a fun little power which let them start the day over. useful at best and insanity-inducing at worst. not an issue, however. sometimes though, things would go really wrong and at that point, they could start over the day, or maybe even the week, and if it was really bad, they could just stop.”

    “Stop?”

    “yeah.” You watch Sans fumble with the side of the chair he's on. After a moment he manages to catch the angle adjuster and the chair goes as flat as it can with a hearty thud. He snickers in his now lounging position for a sec before speaking. “ _walk_ with me on this, wouldja?”

    You just roll your eyes.

    “anyways, yeah, so sometimes if things went really really badly, they could just quit. pack it in. except the world wouldn't keep going around them, it'd stop too. like poof quit the game and walk away. i’m actually from a universe where that happened. mostly.” Sans waves one hand around as he talks, and you get the most fleeting glimpses of cracks forming across all his hand and wrist bones. “but that's not important.”

    You figure that by this point you're committed to hearing the rest of his wild story. A hallucination giving you exposition probably doesn't happen very often. “So what _is_ important, Sans?”

    “what is important that since your soul feels the closest, you're the one most likely to be able to do all that stuff too.”

    You have no secret powers. Absolutely not. You just spent a few hours in the middle of a breakdown and now you're possibly dissociating. No fucking way you have special powers.

    “Nah, that's fake dude.” You shift so you're reclining similar to him. “You can just get outta my car if you're gonna start spewing shit like that.”

    Sans immediately pops up with his hands up like he’s trying to calm you down. “woah woah, you don't have to do anything. powers or not.”

    You turn to see him just as he is taking stock of your relaxed position. That too-large grin comes back as he probably realizes that while you think he’s out of his mind, you're not going to kick him out into the cold.

    “i bet you’d put up a skele- _ton_ of a fight if i tried to make you do anything.”

    You pick up on this one way faster, even giving it a snort in response. Not because it was funny, but because it was very right. “You’d be outta your fuckin _skull_ buddy.”

    He laughs at that, and you’re pretty sure it’s a genuine laugh. After giving him a moment to calm down, he sighs and turns back to you. “anyways, yeah, you don’t have to do anything. just don’t die while i try to get the **underground** open.”

    Cool. That’s fine. You do that every day. Maybe you’ve been getting a little closer, hence his mysterious stranger act, but you have been sticking around through everything yet. You sit and consider everything he’s told you. So many things.

    Was this all just a hallucination? Yeah, probably.

    Was it a reminder to keep yourself alive at least a little longer? Sure, it’s that too.

    You sigh and sit up, fixing the seat of the car so that you can start driving. “Do you want me to drop you off somewhere, Sans?”

    He sighed, sitting up as well. “nah, i know a shortcut. thanks for listening though bud, i know i can talk an ear off.” Sans pauses to chuckle to himself for a moment. “s’why i don’t have any.”

    You just stare at him while he climbs out of your vehicle, and waves before slamming the door and walking away. _Huh. That one was almost funny._

    A few minutes more of introspection, and you decide to pull out of the parking stall and drive home. When you get out of the car after pulling into your drive, you grab the purchase of alcohol, as well as your bag. You barely wait an hour before cracking open a cold one. Not a method you’d normally choose, but one you hoped would be effective of helping you forget the still lingering sadness and the more recent confusion.

 

    The sky is wide above you, full of deep greens and purples and blues and reds. You stand between overly tall redwood trees, neck craned up so that you can keep your eyes open for any flashes of white light. In your hands are a jar, covered in something to make it's surface an opaque navy, and a net, wide and glinting with polish. You run silent, close to the ground, between the trees. Both of the items in your hands thrum with energy that propels you forward.

    What pushes you to continue is blind need. This net  _needs_ to be used, this jar _needs to_  be full. You know you are a star-hunter and you know you are important. The world relies on you doing your job. And so you watch with bated breath for the first shine to appear.

    What seems like ages pass before the sky suddenly lights up with the bright white you were looking for. It’s hard to tell distances like this, but it looks like this one is right above you. This one is yours.

    You take a deep breath and spring up, making it about a quarter of the way. Reaching out, you use that net to hook yourself to one of the branches of the trees and jump again. You dart between them until you're at the top. In the distance, also jumping from tree to tree you catch a glimpse of another figure with a net and jar.

 _I have to get this, I_ need this _!_

    You tuck your own jar into the folds of your gossamer clothing and spring up one more time. As you reach the peak of your jump, you swing your net out as far as you can manage. There's no time to angle yourself right to land on a tree, so you just close your eyes and pray as you plummet towards the ground.

    When you open your eyes again, you're no longer in the forest. Your net is still at your feet and in it, is the pulsing, glowing star. A tsunami of relief crashes down on you and you quickly pull out the jar again, transferring the too-bright object into it.

    As you finish tightening the lid, a thought hits you.

    “What am I doing?”

 

**I believe you are catching stars.**

 

    Somewhere behind you, a static starts eminanting and you begin to hear words in its noise. This is familiar, you notice. The net and jar both feel foreign, but this dark place you’re in now feels like home.

    “Hello?” You gather your strange tools and begin to look around. “Who’s out there?”

 

**Do you not remember me?**

 

    “Oh.” You stand and spin, looking for the figure you now remember to expect. The Static is there, a mass of billowing blackness with a floating white mask, bobbing along as a head. “I’m back in the **Nothing**.”

 

 **Yes. Welcome back.** The Static apperates it’s hands, those same damaged bone-white gloves, and makes a gesture of welcome. **It has not been long since you were last here.**

 

    You consider this for a moment. “Do I come every night I dream? I can never remember once I leave…”

 

 **You are here often, yes.** The Static condenses in a way that seems like it is laughing. **But you often are not here with me. I consider this to be the unused portions of reality, where Nothing exists and Everything is possible. There are many places here that I do not know about.**

 

    Sitting down on the ground, you toy with the woven portion of the net. “Dreams are a way of processing what happens to you during the day, right?” The Static bobs in what you think is a nod, also sinking to be ‘sitting’ on what counts as the ground here. “Something happened today that surely requires some processing.”

 

**Ah. You must have seen my apprentice. Did you meet someone rather pale and kind of round?**

 

    The Static motions along like they are playing a game of charades and it makes you chuckle. “Yeah, he was kind of annoying.” The Static condenses again and now you're fairly certain it is laughing. “Why'd you have to choose an apprentice as smug as him?”

 

**A version of myself is his father, and he, a version of my elder son.**

 

    “Family obligations, I understand.” You say sagely, as the Static laughs again. “Honestly though, I thought I had hallucinated it.”

 

**What he told you is as real as you or me.**

 

    You gently set the net down and pick up your jar of stars. “I can never remember this place when I leave. I know you've told me before it's not, but what if this is all just an elaborate dream too?”

    The Static reaches forward and beckons for the jar you're holding. After a tentative moment, you place it in their open palms. Smokey blackness dances forward from their form and brushes against your now empty hands.

 

 **I do not believe I could convince you this isn't a dream, but why not make it a beautiful one.** The static pauses a moment and then the jar is forced open and thousands of stars seem to shoot out. Upwards they flow, like a fountain of brilliant light. **Darkness can be comforting, but occasionally light is needed to see things clearly.**

 

    You both sit, watching the stars pour out and around, creating constellations you recognize and others you don't. They shift and spin like dancers and it reminds you of something. A memory locked away from one of your previous trips here, a key opening a door to a view on a screen.

    “You tried to tell me about the monsters in the **Underground** first, didn't you?”

 

 **It was a hope, that if I could convince your subconscious of the Underground’s existence first, you would be more willing to listen to my apprentice.** The Static pauses, the ambient noise in the area decreasing as it happens. It's hands still from their constant accompaniment before lifting up like a conductor ready to direct an opera. **Sans believes he can solve the issues of this reality on his own. I can not pinpoint specifics, but I can see that the chances of success are far greater with your assistance.**

 

    “You told me once you are not anyone anymore, but you still recognize him as family. Why is that?” Some of the stars shift and spin wondrously close to your face. In the light they provide, you can see similarities between the skeleton you met earlier and the billowing form beside you now. “How did you come to be here, Static?”

    It laughs again, but somehow gentler, reminding you of a deflection. Your ears are almost beginning to go numb from the strange noise, but this pulls them back. The Static’s hands wring together gently as if they are nervous about the answer.

 

 **The person I once was, was a scientist. He accomplished feats for Monster society but also did harm to the people he most cared about. Only sometimes was he able to complete his final experiment, and rarely did it work. In my history, it _did work_** **, but I was a poor father. I did not spare time for my family unless they were assisting me with my studies.** The Static deflates, mask and gloves seeming to rest now on a puddle of darker than black. You see in the starlight that the mask, as flexible as Sans proved to be, has changed to show both sides as sad. Despite it’s lessened form, it continues to speak to you.

**In this place, I am nothing special, just a conglomeration of atoms and magic, only slightly different from those around me. The person I once was, every person I could be is nothing here. It is a chance to start over, do better. I cannot go back and be the father my sons deserve, but I can be a guide and support for those who need it most.**

**The Sans you met had a father better than I, a man more caring and present. When he faced a lonely existence as the last monster left, I was grateful for that already present trust. It allowed me to pull him from that timeline, that reality, permanently. He and I now work together with other versions of ourselves to free the monsters in realities where the usual 8th child is not present.**

 

    You reach out and grasp one of it’s glove-hands, pulling it towards you and forcing the Static back into it’s normal, tall form. “Whether it rights past wrongs or not, it sounds like what you are doing is helping.” As a pair, you both watch the stars float for a while longer before they begin to settle, and you notice some are descending. The weight of being extant drawing them back down and you fiddle with the jar that they came from. “Do you really think he will need my help to open the **underground**? I don’t know anything about what is supposed to happen, or how any of this works.”

 

 **He would be able to do it on his own, normally.** The Static rests one check of their mask into a gloved palm. **But time has passed. Time does not flow the same in the Underground compared to the Aboveground. I cannot give you a good comparison, the nature of the barrier holding Monsters inside prevents magical interference from outside. Even outside reality. But I can tell that things are not the same as they would have been in my timeline or my apprentices. Human touch is needed.**

 

    The stars float lower and lower, some in the distance ahead of you even seem to have settled on whatever counts as the ground here. You think about what is being said to you. “What do I bring to the table that he can’t?”

 

 **Hope.** The Static’s mask shows a small smile, on both sides. **Hope that hatred and fear are not the only ways forward. Hope that humans can care.**

 

    That … that makes some sort of sense. You don’t know the full picture, you know there is more to everything than you have been told, or will ever be told. But if you can bring hope, a willingness to persevere, you will. You’re determined too.

    “If I remember this, all this, once I wake up,” you start slowly, as you pick up your silver net and glass jar, getting ready to rise. “I will do all I can to help.”

    The static smiles gently at you, thankful, and you go back to your work, catching all of your escaped, glowing prey. A star-hunter never rests, never sleeps. By the time the ambient noise of the forest has totally returned, you have forgotten why it was gone in the first place.

  


    You’re hungover, eating cereal, and listening to an explicitly not-Christmas-related podcast when something worms it’s way into your mind. It's the faint hints of something that you know you should be doing. A sense of dread joins the coil and you feel a weight drop in your stomach. What is it? It was important, you’re sure, but what was it?

    You make a list of what you did yesterday.

  * Woke up.
  * Ate and opened gifts.
  * Called mom.



    You had left a message, right? The answer does not strike you immediately so you sluggishly grab your phone from the pocket it was in and open the texts app. Right at the top, the last message you had sent or received was indeed one sent to your mom letting her know about a voicemail. Okay cool. Where were you?

  * Woke up, gifts, called mom.
  * Went to Jay’s.
  * Played with the dogs.
  * Broke down.
  * Left Jay’s and broke down again.



    Okay well that isn’t as important. Why make distinctions when it was basically 2 to 4 hours of just crying that left you with a headache almost as bad as the one you have now?

  * Left Jay’s and bought beer
  * Ran into what’s his face



    Hm. Wait. You know what his face is. It comes back like a rising tide, slow enough that you don’t realize you had forgotten until you’ve totally remembered it.

    “So I guess I really did talk with some sort of skeleton yesterday.” You scoop up the last bits of cereal floating in the bowl and then chug the flavoured milk. Slamming it back onto the table, you feel like you’ve just made a dramatic statement worthy of a movie. Isn’t this whole thing worthy of a movie?

    He’s a fucking skeleton for heaven’s sake!

    A Skeleton!!

    All of a sudden you’re the protagonist of a young adult novel and what the hell does that even mean for you? Happy Boxing Day, you’re now an unwitting hero?

    You sigh and get up in search of the bottle of ibuprofen you moved yesterday when you had taken some. You’d pop one, give it enough time to start taking effect, and then drive out to Jay’s. Feed the dogs. Drive in circles until you find Sans again. You know you need to speak to him again. Even if it further enforces the sheer ludicracy of everything, the complete feeling of fabrication it gives, you know you need to speak to him again.

    The following hours go by in a rush. You respond to the texts that come in from friends or family, but you can’t remember what they said or what you had said back. The roads between your house and Jay’s are fairly busy, but you don’t let that bother you. It’s an important capitalist holiday, you won’t blame these people for trying to take advantage of any sales possible. That said, it’s just as much of a blur as anything else. Even seeing Jay’s dogs doesn’t stick in your mind for too long once you’re out of the door away from them. The whole time you drive however, your eyes are scanning the sidewalks beside you just in case.

    You’re turning back onto your road, trying to decide how exactly you’re supposed to find someone who you have no real information for when you see a figure walking in the same direction you’re going. It seems almost too good to be true when you slow down, pulling up beside the figure and he turns to you with a wave. You stop the car and lean over to roll down the window, cold air invading the warm car.  “Sans? Where ya headed, dude?”

    Sans’ scarf was covering a lot of his face and it made his speech a little more muffled, but you can still hear him okay. “speak of the devil, huh? i was trying to find you.”

    “And so you were walking towards my house? Creepy.” You were out there trying to find him too, so you’re not upset. Instead, you lean back over and open the door, a universal “get in”. You don't say anything, and neither does he.

    The rest of the drive to your house is quiet. Whatever Sans needed to say, you caught him off guard enough that he wasn't saying it yet. And he'd done the same for you. Not that you really knew what you wanted to say anyways, but still.

    “this it?” Sans asks as you pull into the cul de sac, and then the driveway.

    “Yeah,” You answer quietly as you put it in park and get out. “Mi casa de su casa.”

    Sans follows you up the walk and into the house. You toss off your coat, draping it across the shelf by the door rather than hang it up. Your confidence and need for information is suddenly gone, and you're just tired again. The house is empty and dark, but not quite cold, and you try to take comfort in that. Rather than pay attention to what Sans is doing, you head straight for the kitchen and start a pot of hot water. He follows you after a moment, looking everywhere suspiciously, still wearing all his outerwear.

    “Don’t worry, it’s just me. None of my friends or family are even supposed to get back to the city for another 3 or 4 days. Nobody’s on the lookout for strange monsters here.” You point back towards your front door. “Just dump the scarf and stuff back there.”

    He pulls down the scarf, but doesn’t take it off fully yet. “you sure?”

    “Yeah, dude,” you try to reassure him by acting as nonchalant as possible instead of tired. “S’all good, get comfy.”

    It takes another few seconds, but then Sans sighs and leaves the kitchen, returning wearing just a casual sweater. He still doesn’t look like he’s comfortable, but he does look relaxed. You’re just not used to … skeleton emotional tells enough to be able to tell what that means.

    “Tea?” You ask plainly as you blindly grab a bag for yourself out of the cupboard. “You can take a look and pick one for yourself.”

    He doesn't respond, instead watching you. You're not sure what he wants so you just shrug and ignore him in favour of prepping your drink. Once it's ready, you cross the kitchen to sit at the table and gesture for Sans to do the same. He hesitates again but complies and sits across from you. The air is awkward but you’re not sure what to say. It takes 31 taps of your finger to the mug holding your tea before someone speaks.

    “so… nice house?” Sans looks up from the cracks on his wrist bones that he had been fidgeting with.

    “Thanks, it’s actually my uncle’s.”

    “neat.”

    You can barely wait for another 10 taps before you talk again.

    “So.”

    “...so?”

    “I don't actually know what to say.” You take a long sip to avoid having to continue for a moment. “I think I just wanted to find you again to get - to figure out whether yesterday was real.”

    Sans laughs at that, but it sounds stilted. “it was plenty real, kid.”

    “Yeah, I can see that.” Gods above, this is ridiculous. “What were you looking for me for?”

    He gives you a look, eye … holes drawn together like he's scandalized that you asked. You’re tired of waiting for him to make the first move here, so you just stare at those beady little lights. You don't even break eye contact as you take another sip, and that seems to be the thing that breaks him.

    “you’re so serious, what is with that?” He drops his head into his hands and sighs heavily. “frisk was never this serious … okay fine.”

    Fine? You do your best to keep your face even but your eyebrow raises slowly on its own.

    Sans slowly lifts his head out of the hole in his hands and faces you again. “so i had a conversation with my dad, and it turns out that you did too. wouldn't surprise me if you can't remember it though.”

    You just look at him blankly, kinda confused but unwilling to stop him from talking.

    “yeah, that's what i figured. you're a bit of a tough crowd you know that? it's like you're _asleep_ to all the exciting news.” Sans pauses and you swear you can hear him mutter something about losing his touch under his breath before he sighs and continues. “you’ve never heard of him but my dad’s a guy named gaster. dr w d gaster. he doesn't really exist anymore since he fell into the void in pretty much every reality.”

    Well that sounds kinda familiar, and that name seems to scratch at an itch your brain has had all day. It's still confusing but you find yourself leaning into it. It's like this kinda aggravating, kinda jokey skeleton hallucination is finally going to tie the whole mystery together. You take another sip of your tea without breaking eye contact.

    “no questions rolling around your skull?” He pauses until you shake your head no. “okay let's get a- _head on_  this then. gaster doesn't exist anymore, but some people still remember him. some people still … work for him i guess?”

    “Isn't that what you do?” You interrupt Sans with a pointed question.

    He gives an awkward laugh. “you caught that yesterday, huh? yeah, i work with the old man still. anyways what i'm getting to is that now that i'm talking about him, you should be able to remember him. tall, goopy, constantly giving off static sounds?”

    Oh, that sounds _very familiar_. This realization, unlike many you have had over previous days, is gentle and slow like a creek filling a pond. Once its waters are lapping gently at the edges, you remember a creature you called the Static and Sans had called his father. It's so satisfying to remember.

    Your brain takes a moment to adjust to these new but not quite fresh memories, and you drink the last of your tea. “You're here because I told him I'd help you, right?”

    “yeah,” Sans starts playing with the cracks on his hands, almost like someone popping their knuckles. Nervous habit probably. “i still think i can do it on my own, but he's insistent that your help is needed. ‘m just here to make sure you're serious.”

    You look deep into your mug as if the last remanents of the tea will tell you how to feel. On one hand, yesterday you had basically told him to fuck off, that you weren't going to help him. But last night, and you remember this clearly now, last night you had told the Static/Gaster that you would. You _do want_  to help, but you _don't think_  you can do all that crazy stuff Sans claimed that the normal human saviour could. “So if you were doing this on your own, what would you do?”

    He sighs, flexes his hands and lays them flat on the table. “drop down, scout out what is going on, try and get in touch with the current me and work some science.”

    “And your dad thinks you need my help because the monsters have no more hope left or something, right?”

    “yeah” Sans can't seem to sit still any longer and he starts talking in hands, “i could probably get the science we need down, but it requires a lot of trust and a lot faith from the monsters. dad’s confident they don't have any left.”

    You give him a slight smile. “You're not so annoying when you're being genuine, you know.”

    “you don't have to do this,” Sans says. “i don't need a body to know this is nobody’s job but mine.”

    “Okay, you're back to being annoying again, Sans.” You lean back in your chair, still holding the empty mug and just thinking. He sounds almost broken, like whatever his dad told him to get him to come to you really messed with his confidence. If they need you to do this, then that's better than just sitting around and doing more of what you had been this week. Being useful is good. Useful is good. “I told your dad I want to help so I’m gonna help.”

    As you speak, Sans grows more nervous until he turns and sees the resolute expression you're sure you're wearing.

    “Let me help do this one thing.”

    Sans nods at you, not giving permission, but accepting that you want to do something. Hopefully. “then we’re gonna need a plan.”

    “If we're going to make a plan, I need some caffeine. I think it's time to switch to a darker tea.” You rise slowly from the table and head back to where the kettle sits, having cooled down much.

    After what seems like a moment of thought on his part, Sans waits till you're near the cupboards before talking. “actually, if you have any honey, i’ll take some tea full of that.”

    You give him that slight smile again.

  


    Two days have passed. It's now the morning of December 28th, the day the first of your friends is returning home; The last day you have to dog sit; The day you've made plans to fall down a hole. That makes it sound so inelegant but it's the truth.

    Sans stopped trying to half-heartedly convince you to give up the ghost after you told him you weren't going back on your word. The longer you two made plans he even got less nervous, hands able to gently rest on the table instead of being constantly fidgeted with. You think that that might have been partially because the further you guys got into it, the more he could see that you weren't going to back down. Which is good, because you're not.

    Maybe this choice was made too hastily, maybe something deep in you is hoping that this is all just a hallucination and you're really just planning on jumping into an empty hole. To be honest, though, the part of you the craves to be useful, to do good, is so overwhelmingly large right now it doesn't matter. You've got some faith in this.

    The plan you two made seems pretty foolproof. As Gaster had told you, things on the outside can't really see into the inside because of the barrier. As such, you're going to go down and try to break it from the inside, rousing both the Sans from this timeline and a scientist named Alphys. There are others you are supposed to contact as well, but only if those two are unavailable. You're going to be there to provide hope, somewhat like a figurehead for the human race, and the scientists are there to actually try to break the barrier.

    On the outside, the Sans who you've been speaking to, void crusader Alternate-Sans, will continue his work on brute forcing the barrier from the outside. He said that most of the solutions he's found to opening barriers in the past have been very specific to that timeline or reality or what-have-you. As long as he can come up with something and can start testing it soon, hopefully, this can be a joint effort between the two of you. All you need to do is to make it to the end of the **Underground** to where the exit is. Sans still wouldn't tell you what Gaster had told him to make him accept your help, but he did mention that his father is currently of the opinion that things in the underground need your help much more than they need Sans’.

    You have to keep reminding yourself about Gaster’s existence that way you're able to keep remembering him, you've noticed. When you two met back up yesterday morning, you had nearly forgotten about the intangible man you'd met in your dreams. As soon as you could remember him again, it was frightening to think about how quickly that knowledge had left you. Since then you've been focusing on repeating the plan, again and again, making sure to never leave out Gaster’s position so you don't forget him again.

    You drop down into the **Underground** , speed through the city known as the Ruins until you reach a place called Snowdin where you get in touch with the Sans who lives there. After doing that, you have to convince him to get Alphys’ help. Once you have them both on board you're supposed to bring them to the barrier where your pal Alternate-Sans will be waiting to speak with them and then as a group, figure out a way to break the barrier. According to Sans, it's almost always thin enough to talk through and about half the time it's thin enough to see through once you get past the glowing.

    There's a contingency plan also. Apparently, Gaster is able to keep tabs on people. It's usually little more than just being able to sense their well being, like reading a stat sheet, but it's something. If your ‘stats’ ever drop too far, Gaster will let Sans know and then he’ll drop down and try to find you. Once he's inside the barrier he should be able to sense your soul again. You're still not sure exactly what he means by ‘soul’ but already this far into it and there's so much weird shit already. You just decide to roll with it.

    As such, you're rolling with it far enough to be driving the long highways towards Mt. Ebot. You already went to Jay’s house to feed the dogs, sending him lots of pictures of them captioned with how excited they must be for his return this evening. Sans agreed to stop in and feed your cat until you get back, and you offered the house to him as a place to stay. Why not, right? You're already jumping in a hole for this dude, if there's a roof he could rest under you might as well offer it.

    You drive down the open road as prepared as you can be. Sans himself is sitting in your passenger seat, passed the fuck out. You've got a bag of stuff in the back seat, a change of clothes, some snacks, your extra travel batteries for your phone. It's a good thing he's asleep too, your swear he's got a fear of it for how hard he tried to stay awake. It's a several hour drive and you don't think you could put up with his awkward small talk or bad jokes for the whole thing. Even just the two hours that you felt like it nearly killed you. Right near the end, he got a lot more bearable when you think he was too tired to maintain the walls of the conversation he had earlier.

    From where you are now though, the foothills are beginning to wrap around you. The few mountains fill up the horizon line and you'd guess you're only an hour or so from the parking lot for hikers at the base of one of them. Not Ebot, one of the others in the small range. Sans had said just to park there and he’d show you a shortcut to where you need to go. You told him that you hoped he was serious about having a shortcut ready to go. This place is a ghost land. The town of Ebot is empty and had been for years. You know that; your family is from there. He said to trust him and you decided to continue just rolling with it.

    The quiet music you've been listening isn't loud enough to cover up the many many conflicting thoughts you have. By agreeing to this, you're putting yourself in some sort of danger. By not agreeing you'd be leaving a whole civilization without help that they apparently need. A part of you keeps screaming that there should be someone else better suited to the job but you squash it down with the hopeful feeling of being needed and being useful. You hope that whatever you're able to do down there will outweigh the guilt of leaving your friends without explaining why. At least Pepper will be cared for.

_Maybe I should send them a text explaining what I’m doing before I jump on down? Or at least one saying that I’ll be coming back._

    You've still not made a decision by the time your car starts to rumble down the snowy road leading to the parking lot. Thankfully the winter had been light here, and the coniferous trees were angled just right to keep the road free of the deep sort of snow that would leave your car stuck. The rumbling of the road wakes Sans and you watch out of the corner of your eye as he jolts slightly, realizing where he is.

    “w’there yet?” He sort of slurs the question, still sleepy.

    “Not quite yet,” you hum, “but don’t fall asleep again. It’s not worth it.”

    Sans takes a moment to readjust himself into a comfortable position and watches the trees out the window as you drive. “you still sure about this?

    “Yeah,” you say quietly. “I didn’t change my mind during your nap. Do you know which exit it is that I want to take? I can’t tell with all the snow everywhere.”

    The trees you pass look the same as the next but the mountains are beginning to loom over you in a way that feels wrong. Maybe you had passed it already? There aren’t really any signs on this stretch of road though, at least not until the next major turn off. Oh shit and how would you even turn around anyways? It's not like this road is wide enough to do that without risking getting your old car stuck in the thick snow banks. You continue to drive, but slow, hoping that will help you keep track of everything.

    Sans watches you go through all that without saying anything. Now that you assume he’s fully awake again he’s got that tense energy and it's not doing you any favours right now but he is calm as he looks out the window. After a few minutes more in which you’re just tense, he sighs and taps your shoulder. “here should be close enough.”

    “Close enough for what?” You let the car roll to a halt on the empty drive.

    As soon as it has stopped moving, Sans jumps out of the car and motions for you to do the same. You reach for your backpack out of the back seat and then exit into the cold. It bites against your hands and neck enough that you’re glad you’re wearing your extra-thick winter coat. The attached hood and gloves you keep in the pockets are a lifesaver.

    “Seriously though, Sans, close enough for what?”

    He turns to you with that shit eating grin he only uses when he has something over you. Rude ass skeleton. “don’t blink or you’ll miss it,” he says while pointing to the car.

    You turn to the car and watch it. Nothing really happens, just the wind howling around it. The cold is making your eyes itch a little though, and you have to turn away for a moment to rub some snow out of them. You’re about to chastise Sans again for being a dick about whatever it is he has planned when you look back out at where the car is.

    Or no, where the car should be.

    You take a step forward, away from him and into the spot where the car _should be_. “Hey Sans? Where’s my car?”

    You look over your shoulder at him as you go stand in the tire marks left by your car that very much should be here. He’s wearing that lazy asshole smile still and just shrugging.

    “No seriously, asshole. Where’s my car?”

    He opens a single eye and lowers his hands from their shrug. “moved it to the parking lot. Pretty sure we missed it by a _lot_.”

    You stomp back over to him. “Okay well where to next, clown. Lead the way!”

 

_Seriously, what the fuck! I’m rolling with it, just gotta keep rolling with it but that was mean. No warning whatsoever! Jerk._

 

    Sans shrugs again, and you roll your eyes, exasperated. It's only something you notice consciously after, but when you blink, as your body does naturally, you open your eyes to see a different set of trees in front of you. The yelp you make is muffled by the snow drifting down around you, the shock of having moved without realizing it nearly making you fall over.

    “Sans!” You call out as you turn, trying to figure out where you are. “What the fuck?”

    You locate him a few steps to your right, facing away into more trees. Not laughing at your sudden fear which he no doubt caused is a low bar but somehow he manages to jump over it. “don’t worry kid, it was just a bit of magic.”

    “The same magic that somehow moved my car?” You ask as you come up beside him. “I could have been warned first you know.”

    He looks back towards you, and up slightly. “yeah that's fair. normally it makes people motion sick when they’re aware it’s happening but you’re right. was a little rude of me to use it without warning. sorry.”

    Grateful for the recognition of wrongness, you accept that small apology with a nod. It still prickles at you but you decide to be the bigger person and move past it. “Okay now for real, where to next. Isn’t there some sort of a hole in the ground I gotta jump down?”

    Sans looks back over his shoulder and then nods further into the woods. “just follow me, i remember where it is.”

    ‘I would hope so,” you mutter quietly as you trudge after him. There’s growing anxiety or trepidation in you but you’re still pretending it’s just excitement. The trees around you are heavy with snowfall and the air is quiet except for your steps. You spend the next few minutes following Sans telling yourself that this is going to be worth it for the good you are doing; for the people you are helping.

    As a pair, you slow to a stop just as the cold has begun to invade the thick boots you’re wearing. There’s another small clearing in front of you, with a sheer drop in the snow in the center. You get a very strong feeling that this is it. Sans takes a step back so he’s shoulder to shoulder with you, just looking out at the hole in the snow.

    “mind if i do a little magic?” he asks, quietly, not taking his eye-holes or whatever off of it.

    “Sure, I guess,” You answer, doing the same. “Is this going to hurt?”

    He shakes his head, looking over at you now. “nah. kid used to say it felt like buzzing, but if you’re using my magic to get down there, you should _bee_ free of that.”

    “Neat.” You glance over at him and the grin from earlier is long gone. With the cracks along his skull nearly completely covered again by his thick coat, you remember for a moment how you thought he was human. Whatever magic he’s about to do is very much not human.

    “so, i’m just gonna lift you and float you down. you remember the plan?”

    “Yeah yeah,” you wave him off as you get ready to get … magicked on? “I won’t forget. See you on the other side.”

    The sensation that comes after that is like being buffeted by a warm wind. It just so happens that this wind is strong enough you can feel yourself raising in the air. You don’t dare look over to Sans to see what it looks like while he’s doing this because you can feel that he’s right. Having magic done on you certainly makes whatever motion sickness you have act up and you get the feeling getting sick right here and now would be very inconvenient. Instead, you keep your eyes squeezed shut and just repeat to yourself over and over: Don’t forget Gaster, find Sand and Alphys, get to the barrier.

    You repeat that all the way until you feel yourself being gently rested on something plush and at that point, things get a little darker than they already are. Darker, darker, yet darker.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hello welcome to the end bit! hey!! it's been a hot minute but as an apology, I'll put up the next one tomorrow. I got a little distracted since my S/o is visiting and that's kinda a priority to me. I was really excited to get to this next bit back when I wrote it and things might feel a little weird, but just let that excitement i felt transfer into you lmao. Feel my excitement for the future. 
> 
> anyways Kiss! see you tomorrow!
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	8. Chapter 7 - Pain and Promises

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, warning for reader getting Hurt near the end! It's not like blood and guts gore or anything and only lasts for a little while but being hurt is still being hurt.

    Something is touching your leg.

    You squeeze your eyes tighter shut and shake your leg a little. “Pep, it is too early, lemme sleep,” you mumble from underneath the covers. A breeze hits your side and you shiver. Or perhaps, you’re not underneath the covers?

    The thing is still touching your leg.

    “Pepper!” You push yourself up as quickly as possible, hoping to scare her away. Your eyes stay closed, though, if you open them then you are giving up your right to sleep.

    It’s _still_ touching you.

    You open your eyes and see that you are not in your room; the thing touching you is not your cat, it is a flower.

    As it turns out, you are at the bottom of a hole, lying on a bed of golden flowers.

    Your eyes dart to your sides but it’s too dark to make out anything. The only light is coming from a hole in the ceiling _(… ground?)_ of this … cave. It must be a cave, you think, though you can't see any sort of exits around you, only the darkness and the faux spotlight above you. Above you can almost see the clouds, but it’s lost in the small drifts of snow that are being blown down, only to disappear before they reach you. You don’t feel cold, but you don’t feel particularly warm either. Everything has a slow, ethereal feel to it, like you’re moving around in molasses.

_How on earth did I get here?_

    You flop back onto the flowers, marvelling for a moment at how plush they are, before taking a long moment to consider what is going on.

_Is this a dream?_

    You bring your arms together to pinch yourself only to realize you’re wearing your thickest winter coat - an old thing that you picked up on sale several of years ago. It’s ages out of style so you only wear it on the coldest of days. The snow swirling above you would make the coat fitting, yes. Maybe it isn’t a dream?

    You sigh and push the thick sleeve up slightly to get at your wrist. After a moment’s hesitation, you pinch the skin, nails and all, as hard as you can.

    “Ah, Fuck!” You gasp, barely above a whisper.

_That hurt! And … there are marks_

_…_

_I guess I’m_ not _dreaming._

    You pull the sleeve back down harshly and close your eyes. Lying here, you can almost imagine you’re back in your bed. If you can forget the stiffness of your arms because of the coat, and the odd angle your feet are at because of your boots, maybe …

    “Hey! Sleeping isn’t going to do either of us any good, Frisky B.”

    A bolt of lightning runs through you and you spring from the ground into some sort of defensive stance. “Who said that?” You shout into the darkness of the cave. “Show yourself!” You slowly begin to turn in a circle, like some demented boxer’s shuffle as you peer out into the darkness.

    As you awkwardly walk around, trying to spy the person who seemed to have caught you while also not letting your guard down, you trip over something. The tangle of limbs you end up in lands as gently as one can when falling on the plush carpet of golden flowers. To say you get off scot-free would be a bold faced lie.

    You detangle yourself to see your largest backpack, the one you used to take hiking, filled almost to the brim. At least the weight of it would explain why your foot hurts now. But that still doesn't explain wh -

    “Frisk, hey!” A sound coming from almost directly above you startles you back onto the ground. Your eyes fly to the space the voice had come from, and you blanch when you see it.

    Floating, because that’s the only word you can think of, above you, you see a kid. They are wearing a green and yellow striped sweatshirt over what looks to be a white dress shirt and brown pants. It’s hard to tell the exact colours though, as the entire child is almost entirely transparent, the ceiling of the cave and it’s skylight easily visible through their torso. Naturally, your eyes are drawn to their face. A ring of what looks to be the same flowers as the ones at your feet crowns their head, brown hair spilling out from under it in a wild mess. The flowers block out everything above their nose, leaving the actually sort of young teen-sized child’s line of sight blocked. As they float, petals drop from the crown and fall to just above your head and vanish, but the flowers never look depleted.

    “W-what...” You sputter and gulp before trying again. “Who… who are you?”

    Any of that defense you had tried to put up is long, _long_ gone.

    They sigh. ”Come on Frisk. Don’t play this game, we both know you couldn’t forget me if you tried.” The floaty, insubstantial child somehow lowers themselves to be right in front of you, if still slightly above as you are still on the ground, without moving at all.

    You can feel your brain short-circuiting at this strangeness.

    “Oh, come on. We’ve got work to do, you know? I was almost tired of waiting.” They pout.

    “Are you dead?” The question slips directly from your brain and out your mouth before you have a chance to stop it. Gasping at the words, you clasp a hand over your mouth.

    The flower-crowned teenage-child tilts their head to one side. “What.”

    It isn’t a question.

    “Sorry, I just - You - It slipped - I - What. What is going on?” You somehow manage a full sentence, eventually.

    They lean forward, close enough that you catch the faint scent of flowers wafting from them. You can’t see their eyes but can only imagine the child is inspecting you.

_Maybe I am still dreaming…?_

_There’s no way this is real._

    “Frisky … Have you really forgotten?” Their mouth forms a pout as they lean back, out of your personal space. “I’m hurt, we did so much together!”

    You still have no idea what's happening. The urge to curl back up crawls along your skin.

 _This is… Fucking ridiculous_.

    You pull your arms and legs in, and drop your head onto your knees. This doesn’t add up, this is wrong, something has gone wrong, there’s a glitch in the matrix, maybe you died and this is your personal hell. This doesn’t add up.

    “Oh, Frisky, there’s no need to pout!” The voice calls gleefully, from somewhere to your right. After a moment, you can hear a zipper being opened. “Look at all this shit you brought this time! Goodness, we might even be able to do get it done…” they trail off, sounding surprised. “Are you _sure_ you don’t remember me, Frisky B.?”

    There’s a slight whooshing near your right ear, and then you can feel someone poke your shoulder, roughly.

    “Friskyyy, you can’t just hide!” the vowels are stretched out, like a petulant child.

    You have _no_ fucking clue what’s going on. Who is this weird ghost-like person? Where are you? Why does it look like you had planned this? Why can’t you _remember_?

    You are poked again.

    A tear slips out of your eyes, just as you look up at the floating figure.

    “What’s going on?” You whisper, “Why can’t I remember? Am _I_ dead?”

    “Wait! Frisk, wait. Uh, take a deep breath. C’mon kid, it’ll be fine.” The floating child drops onto the ground with a soft thud and reaches a hand out toward you. Their breath shudders, betraying some anxiety at your reaction to _everything_. They slowly force their hand towards you again, but this time for you to grab, and you take it hesitantly. It feels sort of like jello, only partially solid. “I- I don’t know why you can’t remember, but it’ll all be okay, I promise. I’ll keep you safe, okay? We’re in this together.” They squeeze your hand, gently, and you think it’s supposed to be comforting. “We always have been, Frisk.”

    The flowers around their head go from a golden yellow to the colour of pure gold. It’s hard not to lose yourself to the confusion it’s causing inside you, but you focus on the slight weight in your hand and try to catch your breath. There's another moment of stillness before you lightly squeeze their jello-hand back and then pull yours from their grasp. You take a deep breath and then push yourself back upright.

    “I-I’m not Frisk.” Pausing, you try to think of the name, and whether it rings any bells. “I don’t know who you are talking about, and I don’t know you, but,” you force out a breath, and roughly wipe your cheek of any tears, “I’m gonna hold you to that.”

    They chuckle, a dark and strange laugh, and jump back slightly. You watch in amazement as instead of landing, they begin to float again, until they are several feet away, both horizontally and vertically. “Now _that_ sounds like the Frisk I know.” The child pulls a flower from their crown and, from the direction of their face, stares at it for a moment. You watch as all of their flowers go back to their gentle sunshine-golden yellow. “If you’re going to insist that you don’t know me, then I guess I’ll have to introduce myself.”

    They toss the flower to the ground, where it fades to nothingness before your eyes, and then starts to bow. “My name is Chara, the fallen child, the demon who comes when you call.” Forward and downward they lean until the bow becomes a somersault, held in place by whatever is keeping them above the ground. They pop back up into a standing position, another flower in their hand, being held out to you. “You can call me C. and if this is your first time to the Underground, then little ole me is going to have to show you how things work around here.”

    You hesitate a moment before taking the flower from their hand. A giggling grin erupts from them as soon as you have it.

    “What?” Your breaths are still heaving slightly. This is _absolutely_ wild. But you try to stay focused and go with it.

    “It’s so strange to see you like this! Not remembering anything, older than normal, claiming you’re not Frisk but you have that dumb, stubborn, bright red soul beating away inside of you.”

    “I mean … I guess?” Gods what sort of life decisions have gotten you to this point. You try to remember the child’s name. Chara - but you were told not to call them that. “Uh, C.?” They tilt their head quizzically and you breathe a sigh of relief. “Don’t you just mean my heart?”

    They laugh. “Goodness! You do really know nothing, huh. Well, to answer that question, I am dead. But I won't let that happen to you.” They slide forward and slip a hand into yours before you can accept it. The flower you had been holding falls to the ground. Their jelly-esque hand tugs on yours gently and then slips away as they glide forward.

_The lack of visible eyes… they don’t seem like a child, but gods above, this is definitely more like what I’d expect a demon to be able to do. It’s just so … creepy._

    You scramble to grab your backpack and before catching up to the child. They haven’t gone far, only a handful of meters forward before slowing to a stop. As you watch, they throw a hand out and look like they’re trying to call something back to their hand. It twists their face into a look of distress and intense concentration, similar to someone from a magical t.v. show. If you weren’t still in such shock, you’d probably laugh at how out of place the expression looks. You also notice fairly quickly that they’re lowering back down to the ground. Just like before, by the time Chara, or C as they’ve asked to be called, has hit the ground, they appear as solid as you.

    They stay standing there like that for another minute or so, and then you hear something that sounds like the earthquake effects from movies. Immediately after that, there is a whizzing noise and you see something dark and shiny shoot out from the ground like a bullet. It holds itself aloft in front of Chara, C, before falling onto the flower-coated ground with a small thud. They relax almost immediately and gently float back up, once again translucent.

    “Grab that, will you.” It’s not a question, and you bend to pick it up with only a moment’s hesitation. Despite their face being turned in your direction, it’s hard to tell where “C” is looking. After a moment of you staring at them, and them, well, probably looking in your direction, they speak. “Things don’t normally play out like this, so I guess you’ll have to just physically take that with you.”

    That doesn’t make any sense, but you still obediently grab the tiny bullet-like thing. It squishes slightly like some sort of goo in a plastic capsule, all twisting black and silver liquid inside. For a moment, you think you can see a flash of colour, but it’s gone too quickly for you to catch. Just holding the small object sends your nerves into overdrive. Perhaps not the object itself, but something about the state that it’s in just screams “danger ahead”. You do your best to put the nerves to rest and ignore everything that isn’t C leading you to what to do next.

    They float forward without another word so you follow without one either.

 

    It's been maybe an hour. You’ve been lead through a number of different caves, most getting darker than the last, and it’s getting a fair bit harder to see. For a moment, you were worried about your phone’s battery, but remembering the fact your floating guide is _dead_ , you decide the better sight is worth killing it. Falling down again doesn't seem worth it.

    With the extra light, you can see the edges of the cave now. They're still blurry, fuzzy, but you can tell where they are now and it strikes you how empty it is here. The carpet of flowers faded to grass and then to dirt long ago giving every step an echo. As soon as you turn the light on, Chara slows down slightly and you take it as a chance to explore a little more. However, you're disappointed when your first assessment proves true.

_Nothing but rocks…_

_Of course, it’s empty here, were you expecting anything else?_

    There’s a voice seemingly wrapping around your heart and squeezing. It makes your whole body shiver for a moment. You look back near Chara, who is just floating in what's probably the center of this chamber. “Did you say that?”

    They look in your direction and you do your best to not be unsettled. They are still dead, after all. Anything weird could be going on.

    “I keep forgetting how naive you are to how this place works.” C pulls out a flower to toy with. “We call it soul speak. My soul, that dumb little squishy thing you've got in a pocket, is close to yours and the magic in the air is letting them speak.”

_Speaking just like this._

    “So you can hear my thoughts?” You ask aloud. “How do I turn that off?”

    “In a way, you can't. Everything gets put out into the magic in the air, but you can decide who is able to receive it. Like,” C pauses to think for a moment. “It’s like sending your thoughts out in a different language. Anyone who doesn't know it, can't understand what you're saying.”

    You nod. That doesn't really make sense, but if you suspend disbelief hard enough, you can pretend it does. Time to test it out.

 _Testing testing, can you hear me?_ It feels like you're just thinking. You try to pick apart the feeling though.

 _Yes._  C doesn't look much like they care about what you're doing, but they've slowed pulling petals off their immaterial flower.

 _Okay now, just, switch tracks._ You concentrate on a different language. You're not sure which one, just fragments of overheard words in a foreign tongue. _Can you hear me now?_

    C sighs.  _Yes._

    You try again, focusing a little differently. It's hard to transpose your thoughts as your thinking them, but you do your best to imagine they're happening in a different language.

    “I don't know what the fuck that gibberish was, but I still heard it.” They speak with their mouth this time, floating up next to you. “It's pretty easy once you get the hang of it, but until then it doesn't matter much. Not like I can really talk to anyone but you anyways.”

 _But I don't want anyone else to know my thoughts,_ you mutter to yourself. Chara chuckles and tells you to keep at it then. There really isn't much else for you to do then try, so you keep trying.

 

    It's another half hour of waking before you have worked your way from C’s instructions to testing out the idea of if it's about understanding, then blanketing your thoughts in a veil of “you can't understand this”.  Instead of thinking of things you can't understand, and your own feelings of confusion, you imagine Chara having those feelings.

_I’m thinking this but you can’t understand it!_

    C lets out a bright peel of laughter. “Whatever you did that time was starting to work, oh Frisky B.”

    Hearing that you were starting to get the hang of it is dampened slightly and you grumble a little, kicking a rock. “Still just B, you know.”

    You’ve been getting more and more frustrated as time has passed. Not just with this particular endeavour, but with everything. You’ve been walking in these dark tunnels for what feels like ages now. Your eyes thankfully adjusted well enough that you feel comfortable turning the flashlight on your phone off, but still. C hasn’t given you any real information on where you are or what is going on since you first woke up, and you’ve been asking. That's why when your foot touches the first bit of uneven, not stone ground, you nearly fall flat on your face.

    It’s not that you’re a klutz, or that you’re getting tired, it was just so unexpected. A part of you thought this cave would go on forever and maybe this is what the afterlife just is. The gentle “oof” that escapes your mouth as you try to right yourself echos slightly more than you expected and you wonder just how quiet you and Chara had gotten. Your heart thuds in your chest for a moment and then Chara turns back to you and gives you a thumbs up. Not quite sure what they are trying to convey, you thumbs-up back.

    In the distance, however, a small noise echos its way to your ears. It sounds almost like someone speaking. Your heart goes back to thudding wildly, even more so than when you first woke up.

    “-lo? Frisk? Is that finally you?”

    C comes down and stands beside you. You can't see their eyes, but you get the feeling they're trying to make serious eye contact.  _It is not going to be fun but you have got to do this to keep going._

    You're about to ask what they mean when they shake their head.

_He_ cannot _know I’m here. If he knows you have a shard of my soul he’ll go all out trying to get it._

    You nod slowly and take a moment to focus. It's hard to plan your internal commentary so that you don't give away the presence of your only ally so far, but you do your best to try. Innocent thoughts. Innocent.

_What was that?_

    Curious, questioning. probably safe right? Whatever freaky thing is up ahead won't realize that right?

_Good idea. But fruitless in the end, He does not have a soul like this, so he cannot hear us anyways._

_Oh._

    When standing on solid ground, C is about a head and a half shorter than you so they actually have to angle up a little to put their hand in yours.  _Just keep walking forward, and be aware that this next bit is going to require a bit of fancy footwork. Just try and drag it out as long as you can, and make as much noise as possible._

    You watch as C fades out of visibility, like most dissipating. You can still feel their hand in yours though, and you squeeze it tightly. They squeeze back, tightly, and you can feel them begin to pull you forward.

    The creature, _him_ , that you had been warned about is no longer calling out but has started muttering to itself, himself. You dread walking forward but C’s still invisible hand pulls you forward through the caves. The changing light as you walk forward is gentle at first before it starts to get so bright you have to bring up your free hand to shield your eyes. It makes it a little easier when you finally round the last curve and you are greeted by a bed of grass and flowers, a pinhole spotlight of pure sunlight, and a scowling, sobbing flower.

    You instinctively move your hand just slightly enough to cover the shape of the flower as C’s grasp on your other hand stops dragging you forward.

_Just remember: Do_ not _mention me, And you probably should pretend that you have no idea who Frisk is too._

_But I_ don't _know who that is!_

    You can almost hear a snicker in the space in your mind C’s voice fills, but that doesn't ease your worry or fear at what will happen next.

    The flower figure raises its head and looks at you like a predator inspects prey for a moment before getting a quizzical upturn to its head. You are still able to see tear marks on its cheeks, and that's got to be the most confusing part of this. How can a flower cry?

    “You're not Frisk?” The beady eyes on the flower seem to search your tired frame. “You're new down here then.”

    You just give a sort of stunned nod. _Just roll with the punches_ , you think to yourself. _Go with it and it'll be over soon_.

    Something approaching glee overtakes its face as it starts to grin. The flower takes a quick moment to wipe its, well wipe its face with its long arm-like leaf-protrusions before looking at you directly. “If you're new around here, I should introduce myself! Howdy, new friend! I’m Flowey the flower.”

    You nod dumbly again and wonder how long until you wake up from this dream. Dream in which you can feel pain, but it's obviously fake.

    The creature drops the smile for a moment and looks at you closely. “If you're new, then you should probably introduce yourself so we can start this friendship on equal footing.”

    You gulp a little and squeeze C’s still invisible hand before gathering what courage you can. “Y-you can call me B.”

    It - He gives you that look of inspection for a moment longer before nodding almost to himself. “A wonderful and new name! Never heard that one before.”

    “It’s pretty unique, but I like it.” You say, a little less shakily.

 _Keep him talking_ , C cuts in privately.  _Waste his time, be loud._

    You give them a squeeze of recognition and try to come up with a conversation topic. “So, a flower, huh?”

    The scowl comes back, but a little tempered. “Good golly, I just said that, didn't I? But yes, I am a flower.” the scowl is replaced by something much more neutral. “I think the only downside is being unable to jump.”

    “Huh. I could see that being a bit of a downer,” you mumble. What was the big danger about this flower again? Sure he looks kinda scary but you assume that comes with the territory. It’s mostly just the shock of it that’s frightening you.

    “Hey, since you're stuck here now,” Flowey starts with a sly look, “how about I teach you a little about how things work down here? It's really different from the surface.”

    C grips your hand tight for a moment, and you do your best to keep your face even.

    “Well, sure? How different can it really be?” For a moment you set aside the lingering fear and spare a few thoughts to just being confused. Then it strikes you again that you're having a conversation with an oversized flower, clutching the hand of an invisible ghost, and your pocket holds a tiny piece of their soul. If this is not even the start of it, then maybe you have every reason to be afraid.

    The flower looks please at least and smiles almost gently at you. “Just stay still for a moment, this will be _really_ cool.”

    You stand still, as still as you can at least, still shaking slightly. Almost immediately you give in to the temptation to close your eyes. It's a moment of respite from all of this, and you try to appreciate it all you can. It's quickly stolen from you though, as a strange popping sound forces your eyes open and something is pulled from your chest. It’s like someone tugged on something in you with a string, but you were left behind.

    It takes a moment for you to realize that your eyes are actually open. Everything is dark, monochrome. You nearly call out to Chara before remembering yourself. They seem to notice your confusion and squeeze your hand.  _Don’t worry, I am still here._

_What’s going on?_ You are really glad this conversation doesn't require actual vocality. It makes it easier to talk while your knees are weak and heartbeat unsteady.

    They don’t fade in, but you can sort of feel the presence of your ghostly companion shift slightly. It feels like they’re right beside you, floating so that they’re in level with your shoulder instead of standing.  _He may be dangerous, but he explains this pretty well._

    This direction sends you looking out across the space you now ( _still?_ ) occupy and although you can still see Flowey, your sight is interrupted by a red heart-shape floating in front of you. Everything else is still monochromatic greys, but this bright thing is glowing with a red light. The exterior of it is very brightly red, but the interior is a lovely, deep maroon, almost purple in the center.

    Flowey interrupts your inspections by clearing his throat. “Hey, hey now. Look at this! Gosh, it's a lovely red. That’s your soul, my new friend!” Your hand instinctively moves to cover the shard of C’s soul in your pocket, but he doesn’t notice. “That’s a powerful culmination of your being, and quite beautiful too.”

    You can see him fully in focus past the red blob, but he’s just as grey as everything else. It’s so strange, you can barely keep yourself upright. “Where are we?”

    The flower smiles, and does a sort of shrugging motion before going back to looking at you strangely. “The same place we have always been! It’s just a little more magical now.”

    “Oh.” You sidestep slightly and are amazed to see the floating heart follow you. It’s so much brighter than the shard of Chara’s soul you have with you, and it’s clean. No sludge.

_Weird._

    C laughs slightly in your head.  _This is not even the half of it. Just keep him going for a little longer. You are almost done._

    “Now,” Your attention is drawn back to Flowey and you still can’t decide what his expression is. “I think I have a way to make your soul more powerful. Things down here rely on friendship. Makes sense, right?”

    You nod, cautiously. Maybe it’s just C’s influence, but this is so suspicious you get the feeling that whatever comes next is going to be complete lies.

    “The best way to power up your friendship stats is to pick up some of the friendliness pellets we share down here. I’m going to send some to you, and you should pick them up!” Flowey’s main flower part - face flower- shakes a little and behind it comes a string of what are best described as pellets. You don’t know what colour they are really, but they look pure white in this soul space. They slowly start to advance on you and his small smile gets wider. “Go on and grab one!”

    You move slightly and they pick up speed, heading straight towards you. C's hand on your shoulder tightens and they whisper into your mind,  _He is obviously lying._

_Obviously_ , your mind whispers back as you step out of the way of the pellets. It's unclear what's keeping them afloat and they try to follow after your moving soul but end up sailing clean past and disappearing at the edge of your vision.

    Flowey starts to scowl again but quickly replaces it with disappointment. “Aw, c’mon bud, don't you want to be better friends?”

    “... sure,” you say slowly. Chara gives your shoulder an encouraging squeeze as you get ready to dodge again.

    Flowey does that strange shaking motion and summons or created more of the pellets which fly towards you a little faster this time and you step out of the way of at the last moment.

    Flowey’s face contorts into something strange and monstrous, causing you to yelp and fall back. You can feel the hand on your shoulder start squeeze and them in your mind urging you to stand up but something wraps around your ankle before you're able to.

_fuck fuck fuck fuck_

    “Gosh, something strange is going on here!” The flower leers at you before raising itself on gnarled and spindly roots coming out of the ground. Your brain shuts off at the sight of this creature and realizing it's vines are what is holding you down.

    “Since you seem to be feeling rather stingy, friend, I won't feel bad about taking this.” another collection of pellets appear from the darkness around your innocently floating soul, still above you. It finally clicks what that expression of his is - Hunger.

_Okay, okay this no good._

_No, probably not!_

_S-she is on her way. Just keep it together a few more seconds._

    You're not sure you have a few seconds to keep it together during as the first pellet grazes past your soul. The feeling is hard to describe, like white hot flame and biting poison but all-encompassing instead of contained to an injured spot. Time doesn't slow down but still the moment before the next pellet hits it head on feels impossibly long.

    At least until the next makes impact and then you realize the thing that truly feels impossibly long is the time before the pellet falls to the ground on top of you, blackened like a burnt rock.

    The third of the pellets falling onto your sternum wakes something up in you and you begin to struggle immediately, sharply jerking against the vine holding your ankle and pulling your wrists away from the ones creeping toward them.

    “Oh, you little _weed_! I’m going to _douse_ you in Roun- _AAAGH_ ” You shout, cut off by your own cries of pain as another pellet makes contact.  Everything gets fuzzy in your vision, and your ears are ringing off the hooks. C’s voice in your mind is just echoing your internal swearing at the pain, and you're pretty sure that Flowey is out there laughing too, but somewhere behind you, a different sound starts.

    You don't hear it until the pained ringing in your ears calms down but there is a set of thunderous footsteps.

 _Oh finally_ , Chara cries,  _thank the stars!_

    You want to ask what's going on but you're just feeding off their optimism to keep your brain from going haywire with pain. Another pellet falls lifeless on top of your chest and before you get a chance to yell out at the dumb little garbage flower, someone else is shouting for you.

    “Oh, you stinking weed! Go away!” The voice booms in the open space.

 _Hey, B. I need you to duck._ C whispers as you can feel them trying to push you down, stopping you from struggling. You feel why a moment later when the fading white-hot pain is quickly met by a streak of real heat flashing over your head. It's gone as quickly as it's come, however, and then you're starting to push back up to see what's happened.

    Flowey isn't there, and the vines that were holding you are sinking back into the ground. That ground, which had just been a plush carpet of grass and flowers, is now singed and smoking.

 _What, oh my god, what was that?_ You roll yourself over and try to lift up to face the new arrival standing but almost immediately begin to tumble down again. It's almost as if the still searing pain is going to have some lingering effects, you think bitterly.

    “Oh don't bother standing, young one.” The same voice that had just moments ago been booming in the chamber says softly.

    You sigh, about to try again before you can hear C clear their throat in your mind. _Seriously, do not_ _worry about getting up, it is okay._ They’re not at your shoulder, and you push your head up almost drunkenly, too hopped up on adrenaline and pain to make it a fluid movement. You can see them, a few feet from you, floating behind the shoulder of a giant, white-furred-and-horned figure. C gives you numerous thumbs up and their mouth gives you a wide grin.

    That figure in front of your companion, face elongated similar to an animal, takes a moment before smiling softly at you. “You're in no condition to be standing right now, surely you recognize that?”

    They sound like a mom herding you toward the right answer. You bow your head to her gently authoritative tone. It takes a moment to work up the energy to speak, and when it does it feels like sandpaper in your mouth. “N- ugh, ouch. No”

    The figure nods and takes a moment to kneel beside you. “Do you mind if I pick you up? It will go much faster if I just carry you to our destination.”

    “Wh-where are we headed?” You take in their paws for hands as they reach toward you.

    The figure pauses their reaching and smiles gently again. “My home, young one, so I may heal you.”

    Behind the figures shoulder still, C starts nodding enthusiastically. You sigh slightly before letting yourself collapse a slight bit more onto the singed earth. “Okay, go ahead.”

    It's strange feeling such large hands pick you up, but the figure is gentle about it. You don't see any nails or claws attached to their finger pads, but you assume they are there all the same. Your stomach does a quick flip from the vertigo of being moved, but it subsides soon enough and then you're just behind held against the chest of a giant furry.

    You've both been moving for about a minute or two when you feel rather than hear a rumble of laughter from them. “Oh, dear, I just realized I haven't even given you my name. Truly I am getting rusty in my age.” They shift your form so that you can look up at them and you see a pleasantly toothy grin. “I am Toriel, the caretaker of these ruins.”

    Something in you shifts, knowing the figure’s name. It's like a blanket being drawn over your mind, telling you to rest in their arms. You do your best to resist but it’s getting hard. _C? Are you sure this is a good idea?_

    You can hear them echoing softly, and wonder again if they really can hear every thought you have and what they must think of you.  _Yeah, she is cool._

    Cool.

    Neat.

    You’re so sleepy.

    Cool.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this chapter is and has always been one of my favourites, in every version of this story. For a lot of fics, this characterization of Chara is really OOC, and hell, even in fics where Chara isn't completely villainized, its still kinda OOC in comparison. But if you're someone who subscribes to the Chara-Narra theory, then you'd probably read a lot of their funky little lines that show some individuality as being a total drama queen. Hopefully. I thought that that would be really fun to run with~! Making the narrator character an overdramatic, angsty, theatre kid who is trying to come to terms with their best friend doesn't exist here and has been replaced by you? Really, _really_ fun!!
> 
> I'd love to hear what your guys' opinions are! Do you like how the average fic characterizes them, positive or negative? Do you like how my fic has characterized them so far?
> 
> Anyways, back on track with uploads coming every 5 days again. Catch ya on the flip! 
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	9. Chapter 8 - Explanations and (light) Exercise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slightly shorter one today! No warnings : )

    You wake up in a small room, in a small bed, under some very large blankets. The thing that hits you first, like a wall would, is the fact this is not your room. This is not a room you have ever been in before.

    As you sit up, wondering what has happened, a bruise on your torso is awakened as well. A sharp intake of breath later and you remember where you are. Well not totally, but where you should be. So this is where that goat woman took you?

    The room is painted a faded pink, with a shelf and dresser, both of which are spilling at the seams. The bed you were sleeping in had fresh sheets on it, soft as your own sheets at home, but the frame on it looks a little dusty. And in the center of the room is a large rug that looked rather plush. Near the middle there is a book, flipped open, and a plate with what looks like a slice of pie on it. As you inspect the room, a child fades into existence reading said book.  

    You watch them for a moment, just remembering what had happened previously. You woke up on a bed of flowers, talked with this child, this ghost, fought a flower, probably died a little, and were saved somehow by a large woman with fur and horns. They don’t look at you, just continue reading. It's a nice moment, calm and okay for filling with loud thoughts.

    You think about how much you want to trust Chara. You think about what the business was with your soul. You think about the woman you vaguely remember as Toriel. You think about how you can’t remember what lead to you getting to this place. You think about who this room must have belonged to.

    As you slide out of the bed, you notice that while your coat, boots, and belt have been removed, your pocket contents and socks have been undisturbed. You gently turn out your pockets and cradle the small jelly-like object, the piece of C’s soul. It looks nothing like what the flower had said was your soul. Thinking about your soul makes you wince again, phantom pain rippling through you all the way to the ends of your fingers. You shudder and fall back against the bed, which gets C’s attention. They look up and watch you, waiting to speak until you’ve recovered from the memory.

    “Shit is painful, huh.”

    You make what you hope is eye contact, boring holes into their flower-covered face. “... Yeah.” Almost unconsciously you begin to rub your arms, reminding them of some sort of not painful stimuli. “That was not fun.”

    Chara closes the book with a solid hand and changes position so they were sitting cross-legged, watching you still. “You should eat the pie. It will help.”

    You slide off the bed to sit across the rug from them on the floor. The pie smells alright, but there’s something about it you can’t shake. It's a little like a faint memory and that's what clues you in, in the end. “Is there cinnamon in this?”

    They tilt their head in confusion. “I mean, yeah? It is a pie. The thing is magic, it will heal whatever wounds are left on you, but golly, it still has to have something in it for taste.”

    You pick up the plate and inspect it. It looks well made, as far as you can tell. The crust looks flakey and the filling looks thick, almost like a cheesecake but you can’t tell what it’s supposed to be flavoured like. There's no fruit visible. No matter what though, you know you can’t eat it. “I’m allergic to cinnamon,” you say quietly as you set the plate back down on the ground.

    Chara doesn’t say anything, but they don’t go back to their book. You’re not sure if they’re watching you or just thinking.

    “Hey C,” you start, as you change your position to match theirs, “what was that whole deal with the flower about? Why was he just waiting in that passageway?”

    They sigh and start pulling flowers out of their crown. “He is a pest, but he has got his icky little vines in every part of the **underground**. Flowey is a creature who relishes in control.” They face down and begin braiding the flowers they've pulled out into a rope. When one flower is fully used, they just pull out another one from their crown to use. “That is kinda my fault, but there's nothing to do about it now. Best we can do is avoid him as much as possible. He does not know I’m here though, and we need to keep it that way.”

    “Why?”

    “Well for starters, Frisky B, he gets exponentially worse the more power he has got. That dumb, bright red soul you've got beating away in you,” their head pops up for a second and they point to the center of your chest before getting back into it, “is one of the most powerful things that exists down here. He was waiting to catch the next human who falls so he could have their soul.”

    They stop braiding for a moment and chuckle quietly to themselves. “He would never guess I already have you.”

    You play with the bottom hem of your shirt; unfortunately, there's not an endless supply of phantasmal flowers for you to fidget with. “And I can trust you? I mean you led me right to him.”

    C’s flower crown shifts colour slightly, and they look like they're withering. “There is nothing I could do about that. But at the same time, there is nothing I could say to make what he did hurt you less. It was something that could not be avoided but Frisk always wished it could be.”

    You look up at them. Chara's demeanour is much more subdued now then it has been before. Even when you were … with Flowey, they had so much more energy than this. They seem sad.

    “Are you okay, C?” you ask, watching them carefully. You still don't really know where the boundaries are between you two.

    They face you again, before turning as if taking in the whole room. “This place contains a lot of memories.”

    You wait to see if they'll continue, but they never do. Eventually, they drop the rope, which faded instantly, and goes back to flipping peacefully through the book still open on the rug. You don't know who this ‘Frisk’ is but as much as C is happy to have anyone, you can tell that they miss this person.

    Before you can say anything or ask anything else, the sound of footsteps on flooring comes toward you. You're not sure of the layout of this… place, but you assume you're in some sort of home. The footsteps then probably belong to Toriel, and as they get close enough to be right outside the door to the room you're in Chara fades back to total invisibility. The pages are still moving slightly, but now it looks more like things drifting in whatever air currents are present.

    Finally, they reach the door and you have to wonder how small of steps they were to have taken this long. You don't look up immediately as the door opens, but do when the sound of that big gentle voice hits your ears.

    “Good, you have awoken! I am glad to see that you have begun the recovery process!” Toriel’s head is peeking through the doorway, white fur only barely contrasted against the dusty rose walls. You nod to her and you can see her eyes widen slightly as she takes in the rest of the room around you. “You have not eaten the pie, young one. Is something wrong?”

    You look back over at where the pie is sitting beside you. It’s still warm and you can smell it, but it's starting to get a little overwhelming. “Uh, I’m okay I think. Sorry though, it smells like there’s cinnamon in there and I’m allergic.”

    She looks confused and pushes through the door a bit more, opening it enough that you can see the hallway beyond her. “Allergic… what is that? Do you mean to say you cannot eat it?”

    “Yeah? Do you not know what an allergy is?” You scratch at your head a little, watching the space where you last saw Chara in. _Is she serious?_

    There's no response from your soul friend. Toriel though laughs slightly and comes fully into the room. She's very tall, something you noticed when you first met her but is reinforced by how everything in this room pales in comparison to her full size. “That is a possibility, young one, or perhaps I simply do not know it by that name. Most of my charges are much, much smaller than you.”

    That gives you something to think about. Chara is being silent, and you hope that they stay that way for a while, so you can just think about everything that's going on. So that you can process on your own. You stand carefully and then reach down to pick up the plate with the pie. Toriel takes it a little sheepishly and steps back out into the hallway, leading you further into her home.

    “How are your injuries feeling, young one?” She asks over her very tall shoulders as she walks.

    You are distracted, trying to adjust yourself to the tall, furry woman leading you, the strange location you’re in. There’s more hardwood flooring here, but the walls are a pale cream colour here instead of the rose of the room. The ceiling is very high and it reminds you of being the back halls of like a grocery store. You suppose, as you walk behind Toriel, that they need to be this tall to ensure the woman is able to stand properly; nobody wants to be constantly hunching over especially in their own home.

    It's not too long before you both exit the hallway into what looks to be a combination living room/dining room. There's a very large reclining chair near the centre of the room, with a fireplace and a shelf beside it. On the other side, near a large opening to another room there is a simple table set up with three chairs, all rather undecorated. As soon as you both get to the centre of the room, Toriel stops walking and you, still distracted, bump into her.

    “Oof, sorry!” You catch yourself quickly and take a step back.

    She laughs gently as she turns to look at you, amused. “It is perfectly fine young one. You are much too small to do me any harm.” Toriel pauses a moment before directing you to one of the seats at the table. “Perhaps you were too enamoured to hear my question earlier, so I shall ask it again. How are you feeling?”

    You take the offered seat and then look up at your gracious host. “Well, not too bad? I’m not like, limping or anything.” But if you stop to think about it, remembering how much it hurt you, waves of soreness still come back. “It hurts more in my heart and in my memory I think.”

    Toriel closes her eyes, goat eyes, and you wonder if her mouth is technically long enough to be a snout. She nods solemnly and when she opens her eyes they seem to look through you with a thousand-mile stare before she speaks again. “Food truly is the way to heal the soul, especially down here. You can tell me more of this ‘Allergy’ while I find something more suitable for you to eat.”

    Her gentle smile which the longer you look at, the more you think actually looks slightly canine in defiance of everything, turns with her as she goes through what you correctly assumed was an entryway. Beyond her now is a spacious kitchen, where you see a nearly full pie sitting on a counter. Despite her having sat you down at this nice and rather large table, you decide to actually stand up and follow her to better converse. Toriel starts opening cupboards and grabbing things while you lean against the wall beside the fridge.

    “Okay so,” you pause trying to think of how to phrase it. “An allergy is a term given to describe something a person can’t ingest or have in them? And they’re very much things that happen on a personal basis. Like I’m allergic to cinnamon and my best friend Jay’s little sister is allergic to peanuts, but he’s not, and my parents aren’t allergic to cinnamon. It's like, a gene mutation thing?”

    You pause for a moment to think and realize that Toriel has stopped grabbing things and is listening with rapt attention. “Go on! This is very interesting!”

    “Okay sure. So uh, for me, if I have anything with cinnamon in it, my body goes ‘Hey I don’t like this!’ and starts to close my airways? There's also hives that people can get, especially if it’s not a food based allergy. Like sometimes it’s chemicals that our bodies just really don’t like, like some people are allergic to latex. Doctors have to use stitches or staples to close major incisions after surgery in that case, instead of the medical tape that they’d use normally.

    “It can be confusing sometimes because some people have fatal reactions and sometimes it just makes your hands or throat kinda itchy. Back where I’m from some people just try to suffer through it if they come into contact with their allergen, but sometimes you need like this shot thing of adrenaline and get them to a hospital. It all depends on the person, what they’re allergic too and how bad their allergic responses are normally.”

    Toriel grabs one more thing out of a cupboard before turning to look at you again. Her ears are too long to move like a cat’s, but you do see them twitch slightly. “So would you say that these allergies make you very sick?”

    “Well, yeah.” You lift yourself off the wall and move slightly, so she has access to the fridge if she needs it.

    Toriel nods solemnly again and goes back to the gathering of things. She’s moved on from food items and is now grabbing utensils and bowls. “I have heard of them before, yes. We also have a term for them in our language, but it is more related to what you would call chemicals. Nearly all of monster food is made of magic and I have never heard of someone having a reaction to magic.” Toriel pauses and glances over to you. “If you are allergic to cinnamon, would your body be able to tell that it is just magic you are eating, designed to smell and taste like cinnamon?”

    You just shrug. “I’d rather not test it out with no back up plan.”

She nods again. “So is it just cinnamon? What flavours do you prefer in your baked goods?”

    “Chocolate is pretty good, and anything with berries is good.”

    Toriel smiles that toothy, almost canine grin and reaches past you into the fridge, grabbing a few more food items from the cold storage. As soon as the door is closed again she gestures for you to retake your position leaning against it and begins to get to work. Based on the shape of the baking tin, you think she might be making another pie, this one with chocolate. For a moment you want to stop her but then Toriel gives you such a soft smile and you’re stopped by how caring it looks.

    “So, young one. I have welcomed you into my home, healed your wounds, and received a lesson from you on human culture, but I have made the silliest mistake. I have forgotten to ask your name!”

    Oh, right. Toriel has this aura of affection and acceptance strong enough that you forgot she has only known you for maybe an hour consciously, and only a few more unconscious. “Well, everyone just calls me B.”

    “Is that what _you_ wish to be called?”

    You smile at her. Very few people have ever asked that before. “Yeah, B is good.”

    Toriel smiles back at you. It doesn’t look quite so canine but you get the feeling it’s just as genuine. After a moment or two, she gestures back behind for the table and says that she will have something prepared in just a few minutes if you wish to rest more. Whether your previous injuries are lasting or not, you decide that a little rest would be good and exit back out to the sitting area of the living room.

    The table is empty and the seats are plain but the act of sitting down is such an unexpected and monumental relief. You had said you were probably fine but maybe standing around is putting too much stress on what you quickly had to realize yesterday is a body more fragile than you expected.

 _Hey, C? Are you there?_ Saying that you’re sending some thoughts out into the ether hoping for a ghost to respond is weird, but that's exactly what you’re doing. _What now?_

 _… What do you mean what now?_ There's a moment of silence where you think C is processing that you’re talking to them.  _You eat some food, rest up, and then we get back to work getting you out of here._

_Why do you even care about getting me out?_ You lean forward and rest your head against the table. While you can’t feel their presence nearby, you do remember being told they can’t stray too far from their soul, which is still in your pocket. _What’s your stake in this?_

    They don’t respond immediately. In fact, the longer you wait, the less you think they’re going to respond at all. That's okay. As long as you’re not totally alone, as long as you have a guide of some sort, then that’s okay. People are allowed to keep their secrets.

    You try not to let your own worries about trustworthiness get in the way.

 

    You’re not sure if you fell asleep again, sitting at Toriel’s table, but she does return with the smell of something freshly baked in hand. You open your eyes and lift your head to the sound of a song being hummed and the clink of utensils on plates.

    Pulling yourself off the table immediately, you give Toriel an embarrassed apology. She gives you a soft look and sets a slice of a new pie in front of you.

    “Do you usually bake pies?” You ask as she gestures to the fork beside the plate.

    Toriel’s soft and sort of pleased look tightens slightly. “Usually, small one. B.” She lets out a small sigh as she slips into one of the other seats. “Most of my charges are much younger than you. It is a treat to most and therefore something they can easily be convinced to eat.”

    You're not sure how to respond to that. Toriel excuses herself from the conversation by starting to eat a slice of her own pie, though you're unable to tell what kind it is. The smell of yours, a fudge-y creamy thing, is very overpowering. The air is solemn between you, as you consider that, but neither of you is willing to stop eating to break it. It makes you think though, you haven't seen any children or any signs of children other than the empty room you woke up in.

    If you asked, would Chara tell you?

    You wait until you’ve both finished before you set down your fork and give her a moment to collect herself before you start talking. “So, Toriel. You had called yourself the caretaker of this place. What exactly do you do? Thank you for saving me, but I’ll admit, I have no idea what’s going on.”

    Toriel opens her mouth to speak, and then closes it. She looks into the middle distance for a moment, making a decision before standing, taking both of your plates and gesturing for you to follow her. “I know you are still recovering, but there is something I think you should see. Do not worry if you get tired, I am quite strong enough to carry you.”

    Toriel makes a quick detour as she walks, stopping off in the kitchen to drop the plates in the sink, before leading you back towards the main entrance and out what you presume is your front door. You can’t see Chara, and you can’t hear them, but you know they are nearby. There’s a weight to the air around you and you hope that's them instead of say, fear or anxiety. Things are just so uncertain and you pat the pocket you’ve got their soul in just to ensure you’ve got that one comfort.

    You’re trusting the ghost because they comforted you when you had a panic attack after landing, but you don’t know them very well. You’re trusting the giant goat/canine/furry lady Toriel because she healed you, though you have no idea how, you also don’t know anything about her. Leaving this place, returning to the surface, would be amazing. How nice it would feel to wake up in your bed and have all this be an extended, weird, dream. Instead, though, you want to understand before you leave. Something tells you that you’ll need to really get what’s going on before you can successfully make it home.

    Toriel leads you out of her home through the front door, down some lovely and ornate steps, and out in front of your home. It strikes you that you’re “outdoors” but there is still a roof over your head. It makes the whole thing feel so surreal, especially since you’re fairly certain that if Toriel was any taller her head would be just scraping the ceiling here.

    “So, young one. This is the **Underground** , specifically a location that is most often referred to as the Ruins. There are several others, but this is my home.” Toriel gestures around her to the dark purple bricks you realize make up nearly all of the walls as she walks. “I have lived here for quite some time. Probably longer than you have been alive, though there was a brief time where I lived elsewhere. When I was very young, Much closer to your age, B, it was called ‘Home’.”

    You both round some corners in the tighter halls before it opens into a much larger walkway. From here you can see the bricks push farther and farther away ahead from the path until you’re nearly in an expansive chamber. Toriel is an attentive companion, making sure to never be more than a pace or two ahead of you in case you need to lean on her for support. C, however, is a stark opposite. If it wasn’t for the lightweight in your pocket you sometimes brush up against, you’d almost think they’ve disappeared, like some sort of hallucination.

    Thinking that earns you a faint chuckle on the breeze, a reminder that not even your own thoughts are entirely private. It leaves you feeling more than a smidge violated, but before you can think too harshly on that, Toriel begins to speak again.

    “There is only one other entrance to the Underground. The one you fell through is the only one any person has ever come in through though, so this is where a community of monsters has always lived. Even as the greater population moved away, those of us who wish to remember the old ways and the old days have stayed here.” She pauses and then leads you down what can best be described as a small alley. “I refer to myself as _the_ caretaker, but in reality, we are all caretakers of this place.”

    The alley Toriel leads you down opens into what can only be described as a massive cavern. Roofs and buildings stretch on for what seems like kilometres but is likely only a few hundred meters. The buildings overlap each other in strangely alternating paths, and most brush the ceiling above like Toriel’s head does closer to her home. It makes you feel slightly claustrophobic to look at it, but the air is fresher here than nearly anywhere else.

    You watch your guide as she takes in the view with a much more sentimental expression than you thought you’d be able to recognize. She sighs but doesn’t turn back to you yet. “This place was once full, but now most buildings are abandoned. My fellows and I try to keep it in the best condition possible, but it is time consuming. I keep up this work so that my people will always have a home to return to.”

    Toriel turns and gives you a small smile.

    “I keep up this work because there will be another human who falls. And any human who falls down here will be in need of a listening ear and protective heart.”

    “I can’t remember what I’m doing down here, Toriel, or what lead to it but I appreciate that.” You have been walking for long enough that now that you’re standing still, you need to lean on her slight for support. “I would appreciate any help you can give me!”

    You pause for a moment reach out with your thoughts. _C?_

    There's a few beats before you get a quiet response, closed off by something unreadable.  _… yeah?_

_I wanted to make sure you wouldn’t be offended…_

_By you asking for help?_ The pause that they give you is nearly embarrassing. Were you overthinking things when you asked?

    Toriel interrupts the moment you are having by taking your hand. “You are older than most humans who have fallen, by several years. My instinct is still to protect you from everything down here, but judging by how severely you were cussing out that flower, you will want the less idealized version. I’m guessing you know more of the world than the average child,” Toriel laughs.

    While she laughs to herself, the quiet and restrained whispers from C enter your brain again.  _B, I think you’ll need all the help you can get._

 

_No offense._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey did you know that Archive runs on like UTC time? Because apparently, it's already the 28th on website time. It's still the 27th where I live though, so this is still on time! I promise!
> 
> This is still mostly set up for what comes later, but still, it's important to get through. I'd love to hear your comments or opinions on what is happening!
> 
>    
> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?) 
> 
> EDIT1: IF YOURE WONDERING WHERE CHAPTER 9 IS, please be patient! It's on its way, but right now, I'm working on some art for a possible job!(if i get it, it'll be my first commission, and by a real life company!!!)! Once that's over with, and with a rather rudely empty schedule at my day job, I'll have all the time i need to properly edit and post the absolute indulgent nonsense that's coming in the next chapter.
> 
> EDIT2: Fixed Formatting for Chara's Soulspeak Lines. 30.7.19


	10. Chapter 9 - Showers and Superpowers

    Toriel has to basically make good on her promise to carry you if things become too hard. You had thought that your body was fine, that whatever aches were left were all just in your head, but when the twinge in your ankle becomes more than a twinge and now you're leaning so heavily on her arm she's practically carrying you. She takes a different route returning to her home, and you’re mildly overwhelmed by the sights. 

    The buildings are tall and mostly made of those same purple bricks but more than a few are so heavy with dust they look grey. There are very few people out, though part of you hesitates to call them people, as of the maybe ten, at least 7 are very large frogs and three are very very large carrots with a face. That part is swiftly chastised, most of them stop to wave or call out a hello, either to you or Toriel, you’re not sure. They deserve more respect than what the fearful part of your brain wants to give them. 

    What strikes you as the strangest part though, is that it’s all very normal. If you closed your eyes you would hear almost the exact same sounds in a very quiet city street. There’s a slight echo that reminds you of a cloudy night when the sound is reflected back to you, and after considering it for a _long_ moment, there’s not any birdsong and that’s probably the only thing that feels wrong. It’s warm enough that you were instructed not to bother with grabbing your coat and you’re glad for that. 

    There’s one other thing that feels weird, but you don’t know what to think about it. Literally everything down here is made from those purple bricks, though the people here seem to have had access to a few varying shades. No real greenery at all. Some homes abandoned for so long they’ve gone white with dust have window boxes on them, but all are empty. Everything about the Ruins is so strange but so familiar. You have a hard time keeping track of where you’re going because of the repetition of the sights. It isn’t until the ceiling of this caver starts to close again that you think you sort of recognize the area, and it isn’t until you see the grand staircases leading up to Toriel’s front door that you accept you’re back to safe territory.

    Well, safer territory. You still don’t know all that much about Toriel or Chara or anyone else that's down here. You just know that so far, they were the two who have helped you and that shitty flower did the exact opposite.

    Once you are back inside, Toriel sits you down on her recliner in the main room and starts flitting about down the hall. It’s strange to be watching such a one-woman flurry of activity and you can admit to feeling a little guilty knowing that she's doing all of it for you. About five minutes after she starts, Toriel returns to the main room and helps you to your feet, careful not to move your slowly recovering ankle too much. She then does a quick inspection of you, which she explains is to try and decide what size of clothing you require. 

    “Oh, you don't need to do that! My backpack has a change of clothing in it,” you try to explain to Toriel, starting to bring your limbs back to more comfortable positions. She gives you a blank expression, which slowly devolves into something approaching confusion. “You know, my bag? I’m pretty sure it’s in …” You trail off.

    Now that you think about it, you don’t actually remember it being in that room you woke up in. Your coat and shoes had been placed near the tall cabinet, but your bag wasn’t with them and since it looked like every storage place in the room was near bursting already, you doubt a large and awkwardly shaped bag would have fit in them. But, where else could it be? You brought it back with you, right? 

    You try to remember as much as you can from when you first arrived here with Toriel but find yourself grasping at straws. What little you do have still is all from long before you even entered the more ruinous parts of the Ruins. Had you fainted or fell asleep? Whichever, it came long before the purple bricks replaced the cave walls, you think. If that's the case though, your bag is likely still where Toriel blasted that fucking weed, all the way back near where you fell.

    The sudden bolt of anxiety that runs through you seems to flash through Toriel as well, though you think she does a much better job of squashing it down and hiding it away. “It appears I did not take as good care of you as I should have, B. Allow me to grab you some garments to change into and a towel, and I shall go back to retrieve it while you bathe.”

    A shower does sound very very good… but what about your bag? What if she can’t find it or doesn’t know what it looks like? What if someone else took it?

    Toriel comes forward and puts one of her massive paws on your shoulder. “Do not worry, I will find it. And on the off chance it is gone, I will figure out who has taken it to return it to you.” She sighs and steps back, glancing down the hall. “We have plenty of extra clothing and such here anyways. Do not overly stress yourself young one, it is not good for the healing process.”

    You’re still about to disagree more, that you should go with her to ensure that it comes back safely but C interrupts you. _You shouldn’t risk it._

 _What do you mean? That's my stuff! It’s important!_ The worry is a little more like frustration now that Chara has outright told you not to go, but you’re still willing to listen. Although she doesn’t realize why you’ve stopped talking to her, Toriel takes your (vocal) silence as acceptance and gently lowers you back into the seat. She quickly retreats to go find you the aforementioned items. 

 _Yes, but you could barely walk to the market and back. It’s not exactly a quick walk from here to the hole you fell down. How the fuck would you manage that?_ With Toriel distracted down the hall, you watch as C fades in, leaning against the wall beside where the hall begins. _Just let her take care of you for now so that we can get moving again._

    You watch them while shifting in the too-large chair. How something so plush and soft can make you uncomfortable would be unfathomable in any other situation. _I don’t know, I’m just worried. That's my stuff, my only link to home. I don’t know how I ended up down here, but my stuff shows that I was prepared. I don’t want to risk losing it._

    They peak around the corner, with their flowers slowly losing petals with the movement. _She’ll get it. I can damn near promise she’s guilty about having not gotten it the first time._ You both watch Toriel run between rooms for a moment or two more before she ducks into the room you had been resting in. _I’m serious, let her focus on that and you focus on feeling better._

 _I’m not even sure what part of me needs to feel better…_ Your thoughts trail out as Toriel exits the room and turns in your direction. C has completely faded away by the time she’s pulling you out of the chair again and depositing a pile of various textiles in your hands. A part of you is paying enough attention to grab the clothes being given to you but the rest of you is still thinking. What part of you needs to be healed? Sure it feels like you’ve got a bit of a bruise on your chest, and your ankle is sore, but is that really it?

    “Well, it is settled then!” Toriel’s voice shakes you out of your thoughts. “Let me lead you to the washroom, and then you can decide on what you would like to do while I’m gone.” Her large paws are gentle as they help you walk back down the hall. She indeed shows you a washroom, mostly plain but with a few doilies for appearances before quickly leaving you behind in the almost empty house. Toriel rushes so fast out the door you barely have time to wish her luck finding your bag. 

    As soon as she is gone, C materializes, lounging on whatever wall is closest. They watch as you walk slowly between the living room and what you take to be “your” room for the time being with a lazy stare. The house is deadly silent, and it's a little weird. You know C is there but since they don't breathe or walk, or anything it's just filled whatever sounds you are making. 

    “You can turn on some music if you want,” Chara says quietly, reading your thoughts.

    “You know that's kinda creepy right?” You mutter as you drop the pile of stuff Toriel gave you onto the bed of your borrowed room. “Like, seriously. It was cool for maybe 10 minutes and now you're just reading my mind.”

    They grimace under the flowers which cover their face. “It only works while you're in speaking distance, leave my soul here and I can’t do it anymore.”

    “Well neat, I can have some moments of privacy.” You sigh, a little exasperated. “But like, I can’t just leave you behind, so I’ve gotta be able to close you out sometimes.”

    C picks themself up from the wall they were leaning on and floats over to sit on the bed near where you're standing. “You almost had it while we were walking in the caves. Just try to get back to that.”

    A part of you can't help but decide that they're sulking about something, which makes them snort. You sigh again, heavier this time, and take their soul shard out of your pocket and leave it on the bed beside them. “I just… need some time to myself.” The towel Toriel hands you is plush and you think the replacement clothing includes a long tunic and some pants, but you don't know how well it'll fit. You take them anyways, and walk slowly out of the room and far enough away that you hope they can't hear you anymore. 

 

    The water is hot, the water pressure is solid, and if you close your eyes you can almost pretend you’re back at home. That is, until you go to put your hand on a wall to support yourself and find them _very_ far away in every corner. If you’re a seven foot ten tall furry monster, it seems that an extra-large shower is a must. Not that this whole place seems strange in its sizes. Those halls that make up the “outdoors” here are uncomfortable and claustrophobic. Once they might have been regal and fanciful, but they’ve been worn away by time and lack of care. You can’t seem to get a breath of air down here that doesn’t feel like it’s stifled or full of dust. 

    It’s all just so strange and alien to you, but it feels like it shouldn’t be. It feels more like you should recognize things and understand them easily. Like you’ve been here before and seen all of this many times. But none of it is. None of it! This is the straw that breaks the camel's back. From right here, you sit down under the water and just exist. Where are you? What are you doing here? How long will it take to get home? And the worst question of all, is it even possible? 

    Chara seems to think so, but based on how hard they are trying to get you to focus on “getting better”, it’s not going to be easy. Toriel hasn’t mentioned it at all either, so does that mean she _doesn’t_ think it’s possible? How bad must it be? How much worse than this? Your hand drifts over your ribs to where a bruise is quickly fading. You think Chara and Toriel are trying not to let on, but that shitty flower was _so_ close to killing you. It was entirely possible. How much worse will it get? Are you even capable of withstanding it?

    You sit there under the water until it’s gone cold wondering.

 

    By the time you manage to work your way out of the shower, you’ve decided that you need to ask some questions. You were right earlier when you had started asking Toriel about this place until you know more about the **Underground** you’re not going to know where escape is actually possible or not. It’s got to be a big place if that large ruined city centre is anything to go by, though that does make you wonder what the population size is like. In any case, you need to know more and you know one person who owes you some answers. Especially since you want to learn how to shut them out and while you think you remember what they said was some progress before, you need them to ensure you’re still doing it right. 

    When you get back out wearing Toriel’s extra clothing, you are almost surprised to find her still gone. Was the hole you fell down really so far away? You suppose that you didn’t exactly pay attention to what time you went in, you don’t know how long you took. Maybe it hasn’t even been that long. Chara is still around, however, and you find them in the same spot they were when you woke up. 

    You can’t tell what book they are reading is but they seem to be much further into it than earlier. They glance up at you but quickly return to what they’re doing. You dump the clothing you had been wearing before on to the bed and sit carefully beside the pile. Interrupting them feels like it is going to be awkward, but you’re going to need to do it. You’re careful to avoid touching their soul though. Putting it off a little longer doesn’t seem like a bad idea for now.

    That is until the quiet gets to you. You’re tired of thinking just to yourself in this place, you want the comfort of conversation. 

    “So…” you start slowly. “I have some questions, and I’d appreciate an honest answer to them.”

    “I know. Your thoughts are even louder than before.” They don't look up from their book, still lazily turning pages. 

    You can feel your face heat up and you just sputter for a moment before taking a breath and forcing yourself to calm down. “I - Yeah, okay. That can be the first thing, I guess. I've got an idea but I don’t - there's no way for me to make sure it's working on my own.”

    They sigh and then sit up, staring you dead in the face, you assume. You hope. While they were looking down it was easier to forget how low the flowers go to obscure their eyes, but while they watch you, you're forced to recognize it. “Shoot.”

    You nod a little to yourself. “Okay, so, you can hear my thoughts right now, right?” _Like this, right?_

    “Yeah, loud and clear, Kid.” They sound bored. 

 _Okay, now what about this?_ _This is private and just for me. Secret thoughts only for myself._

    “Hm.” They break your concentration but judged on the turn of their lips and the hunch of their shoulders, it was long enough. “I could hear… buzzing? It wasn't words though, so I guess that's good enough for you right?”

    You let out a huge sigh of relief. It’ll take some getting used to, having to think of all of your thoughts as private and secret things, but it's really comforting that the answer was so simple. How you didn't think of that at first is beyond you, but you have the solution now at least. But now onto the next thing. You adjust slightly on the bed, finding a position when you can easily start to toy with the hem of the tunic you're wearing now. “Alright, moving on.”

    C doesn’t say anything put drops their head to rest on one hand, seemingly bored already. You’re not sure what they want from you, but hopefully, the more information you have, the more you’ll understand about them.

    “So I know we’re underground here, but is it some sort of big cave? Or like, is everything just dug out in tunnels? I feel like I’m not getting the big picture on what sort of place this is.”

    They don’t move for a few long moments before standing up and brushing themself off. “It can be … hard to conceptualize, how big this place is. It's hard to imagine putting a roof over a giant city, but that's really what this place is like.” you watch as they begin to pace slowly in this borrowed room. “You saw what the city centre is like here in Home. There are some places that are double or triple the size of that. Others are little more than passages dug into the walls. Some places are so big you can forget that you’re underground, and other places it’s inescapable.”

    “How long will it take me to get out? You want me to get out, right. That’s why you’re doing this.” You tug on the hem of your tunic anxiously.

    They pause the pacing to turn to you and nod once. “Yeah, it’s the only way to accomplish my goals too.” It takes them a moment to think, but they go back to pacing while they do. “If you walked just from here to the exit, I think it would take maybe ten hours. But that doesn’t count the … well, everything else you’re going to have to do.”

    That doesn't sound foreboding at all. “What else am I going to have to do?”

    “You heard Toriel call herself the caretaker, right? Everywhere else has ‘caretakers’ too. You got to convince each of them to let you pass and …” they trail off before turning back to you and shrugging. “I am not really sure what it will take any more. Five years ago, maybe, but time had passed in the **underground**. I am sure that they lead different lives now. We’ll just have to do our best.”

    “But,” you stop yourself and take a deep breath. That same fear that overtook you earlier is bubbling back up. “Do you really think it’s possible? Based on how you guys reacted, I was in some serious danger earlier.”

    Chara rubs their wrist and glances away. “There is a special trick to making it out. I know it will work, it just isn't very pleasant. And,” they pause before nodding to the door. “Toriel just came back. I will explain it later.”

    “Okay, I’m going to hold you to that,” you warn softly as you rise and exit out into the hall. C doesn't have anything to say to that, instead looking uncomfortable as they stand alone until the door is closed behind you and they're out of sight. 

    The house is not as quiet as it was earlier, and you’re able to find Toriel easily in the front entryway. She’s just removing a small cloak when you walk into the room, humming quietly to herself. As soon as the older woman sees you, her face breaks out into a huge grin full of canines and pride. 

    “Oh B! Look, I’ve found it!” She reaches to the ground beside the coat rack and pulls up your bag, handing it to you happily. “I did not check to see if everything is in there, simply because I do not know what all _should_ be in there. But I hope this satisfies you!”

    You take it gratefully and hold it tightly as you open all the small pockets checking to see the contents. “Thank you, Toriel! I really appreciate this! W -” You pause, faltering. “Was the flower there?”

    “No, not at all.” Toriel gives you a gentle, apologetic smile. “I had not seen that creature in quite a long time before I found it attacking you.”

    “Oh, okay.” Your relief that she was safe is like a blanket, wrapping you whole. You hug your bag just the slightest bit closer. Before you are able to ask anything else, a yawn slips out.  

    Toriel doesn’t wait for you to say anything else before leading you down the hall back to your borrowed room. Even if you tried to convince her now that you aren’t tired, you’d hazard a guess that she would see right through it. “It is rather late, young one. Sleep, we can discuss your situation more in the morning.” She says, softly. 

    “What time _is_ it?” You ask as another yawn escapes you. 

    Toriel chuckles a little before opening the door to your room and gently pushing you into it. “Late, very late B.”

 

 

    The sky above you is a light, idyllic blue. There are brightly coloured buildings around, birds flying in the sky, and the sounds of happy people going about their lives. It’s a nice day out with hardly a cloud to be seen. At least there is a breeze today. You walk down the street enjoying your time. Each step on the concrete sidewalk is one that moves you further towards home. 

    Home, a place of comfort and rest. 

    You keep walking.

    That enjoyment is slipping away, though, the longer you spend in this place. On this street. Seeing other people through the windows into their own homes. 

    The houses in this town are full of life. 

    Despite it, you walk having a growing sense of unease filling the pit of your stomach. Each one has a few smiling persons standing just behind the windows, but as you pass they pause to watch you. It’s unsettling. A child in one of the windows raises a hand to wave at you and you realize that each of these people are dolls. It's a road of dollhouses. 

    That’s why their faces seem wrong.

    The realization makes your uneasy walk turn into a full-on sprint. Where is your house? it looks nothing like any of these ones with their plastic people, so where is it? You nearly trip over yourself in your haste to find it. Find home. 

    The further you get into this town, the more snaking roads and sharp turns you've taken, the more decrepit the buildings get. The outsides start to look like they're rotting off, yards full of overgrown plants that seem to be eating the paths up to the front doors. Each inside is in the same state when you glance at it, peeling wallpaper and flickering lights. Through cracked, dusty, or painted glass you can still see the people.  Their faces are all pristine, big grins and painted eyes that pause and enter a state of forceful blankness as you pass by.

    You run as far and as fast as you can before collapsing to your knees; all your energy is gone. The sky overhead is an idyllic shade of blue and it makes you want to scream. 

 

 

 _Hey, wake up._ A voice cuts through the darkness and you open your eyes with a sharp gasp. Sweat sticks to the side of your face and you can feel that your back is slick as you bend down, trying to catch your breath. What was that? That dream? How can a blue sky terrify you so?

    You breathe. Faster at first, but slower and slower until you’re almost calm again. 

 _Hey,_ A voice cuts across the open space of this bedroom to echo in the back of your mind. It makes you jump, but you remember where you are - who that was - before you’re able to have any real freak outs. _I need to explain some more things to you, and we need to look around before Toriel wakes up again._

 _Is this more about how to keep going out?_ You ask internally, yawning externally, as you slide from the bed into a standing position. It’s dark in here, but a lamp across the room is on, producing some low light. It’s just barely enough that you don’t stub your toes moving around but it’s enough. _How’d that light get turned on?_

    Beside the lamp you see a form materialize and then the lamp is turned one setting brighter. Chara is leaning against the small shelf on that side, flowers a dusty orange in the light. It’s a little creepy, but that's probably because it’s so late. _I figured you would prefer to see, so I turned it on. How else?_

    “I… didn’t think about that,” you grumble, switching to speaking vocally. “Do I need to put on shoes?”

    They push off from the wall and assume their usual, relaxed-but-floating state, moving towards the door. “I don’t know. Maybe? I am just gonna fly.”

    You roll your eyes and slip on your shoes. For a moment you nearly forget to grab that shard of C’s soul but you remember it when you grab your phone to use a flashlight. You doubt Toriel is the sort of person to leave all of her lights on and you’re not sure where all the light switches are anyways. 

    Chara leads you out of the bedroom and down the hall to a staircase in the back of the entrance hall. You hadn’t bothered asking what was down there before, figuring it would just be another basement, but since they need to bring you down here maybe it is actually more than that. The stairwell is wide, but you expected that. What is more unexpected here is the echo that wraps around the space as you enter it. 

    “We’ve still got to be quiet down here, but at least _she_ will not wake up as easily.” C starts as they continue to float down the long staircase. “I - Earlier I mentioned that there is a trick to getting through the **underground**. And that it is not pleasant. I was not lying.”

    You stumble for a moment when you reach the bottom of the stairs. You weren’t paying enough attention and thought they were still going on, but no. The floor here is that same purple stone as the outside of Toriel’s home upstairs, but there was no door to official leave her house. “Is it that important? If it’s unpleasant, why not just find something else?”

    Chara shakes their head and continues to float forward into the darkness. You follow along in the dark hall, wondering just what is going on now and why can’t things be simple, like if this was just a crazy convoluted dream. That would be nice. 

    They come to a stop just before a turn in the passageway. “Here is probably far enough. I am hoping that if we are careful enough about it nobody but the flower will realize anything has happened.” They pause to peek around the corner and you wonder for a moment if they’ve got darkvision. They chuckle a little before turning back to you, mumbling to themself. “Stars above, do you know how cool it would be if I had darkvision? Too bad I am just dead.”

    You just sigh, exasperated, as you realize you haven’t been properly shielding your thoughts. Gods, is that going to take some getting used to. You’re sleepy and a little cranky about mind reading ghosts and being stuck in a cave and just about everything, now that you think about it, so you hope that this goes fast. 

    C pulls a flower down from their crown as they take a cross-legged position, sitting so they’re just a hair below your eye level. “So, this is weird. I’ve never had to explain it like this before. Frisk - or maybe it was me… One of us kind of realized how to do it instinctively, though neither of us could do it while we were apart. Let me think for a moment okay? I mean, on how to word this.”

    You nod and look away, content enough for the moment just to inspect this hall. Passage. Whichever. You’re not entirely sure what it counts as, but it’s one of those two for sure. Hopefully C doesn’t take too long thinking and you can crawl into bed again soon. 

    The walls down here are still a vibrant royal purple, despite some slowly growing dust deposits around the space. There’s a slight breeze here, though you didn’t notice until you came to this junction. After a moment, you decide that it’s coming from around the curve to your left. Curious, you try and get your phone’s flashlight to reach as far down the path as possible but the light gets much to hazy before you’re able to see anything. Sighing, you go back to just looking at what’s around. You’re about to reach out and wipe a brick with your hand to see just how much dust has collected down here when C clears their throat.

    “I was hoping to find something more … interesting or dynamic but it is just basically a real-life **save** mechanic. The **underground** is a dangerous place for a human, but not because of ill intent from monsters. Most monsters won’t even realize that you’re not one of them. Because of this though, they will think it is fine to just do what they would do with an unfamiliar monster, and enter a battle.”

    “Like with the flower in the caves?” This sounds too simple. 

    They nod, and pinch a petal off the flower they’re holding. “He was not doing it the way most monsters will. Down here, people get a sense of who you are by what is in your **soul**. The easiest way to do that is to enter a battle and figure out what your intention is. For monsters, this is harmless, or _mostly_ harmless. For a human, this can be devastating.”

    It’s coming together for you. You were right to think that a save mechanic was too simple. It’s not like this is some sort of dating sim where you can repeat a day over and over again till you get the perfect result. This is real life. “Okay but you’re joshing me, right?”

    They chuckle a little, darkly, and pull off another petal. “No. I am not. I wish I was. For now, we should make sure you have it, okay?”

    “Why do you think I do?” You aren’t sure what to expect. How is this supposed to work? Are you supposed to just _get_ it, like C mentioned they and that Frisk person could? You’re confused still, but you think that that’s just the sleep and annoyance blocking out some critical thinking. “Like, why me? Why now?”

    They sigh and just drop the flower they’ve been holding before pointing at you and your chest. “It’s got to do with what makes up a Human **soul** compared to a monster one, but also the environment that you’re in. We should test it though. First things first, you are going to need to make a **save**.”

    This all sounds like nonsense but you privately take a mental step back. You’re in the **underground** , talking to a ghost or something very close to that, about how to mess with time because the magic creatures down here who probably all look very different from a human are going to be mean to you upon first meeting. You think that this is all bonkers, but you’ve been dealing with it all day, and you’ve already had your one allotted breakdown about it. Time to buck up and do it already. Time to get home. 

    “Oka -”

    “Wait!” Chara interrupts you with shock in their voice. “Wait that, that was really close! How you did that without knowing it, I don’t know. Focus and try again. Think about your resolve to keep going, and your will to see this through.” There’s something like real excitement in C’s voice.

    You try to do as they ask. You have resolve to keep going … because you have a life to get back to on the surface. Who is going to feed your cat? Or tease your friends, or occasionally let down your mom on important family days? You have a will to see it through … because this place is so strange and you want to get back to normalcy, to a place where you understand what’s going on. 

 

_Is that enough?_

 

    You look over to Chara to see them looking somewhere in your direction. You can’t tell if you did it or not mostly because you can’t see if they’re still watching you. You try to keep going. What's another reason to have resolve? Oh! To get a breath of fresh air. To be able to step outside and have it truly be ‘outside’ again.

    For a moment, the air around you feels warmer, a tad brighter too and when you glance up at your guide, they’re smiling under their flowery mask. 

    “There you go. That’s it! Your determination led you to **save**.” Their flowers glow an almost brilliant gold, but that fades just as fast as their smile when they look away. They turn and start moving down that hall towards where the breeze is coming from. 

    You catch up quickly, shining your phone’s flashlight all over the hall. Nothing has changed so far, but you’re not sure if that's a good or bad thing. The warmth of the moment has been quickly replaced with that chilly breeze again. The **saving** process was, to put it succinctly, weird as fucking hell. You just hope that it is actually as useful as they say. “So what are we doing down here anyways, C?”

    “Some people can _tell_ when we do this.” They explain, tone showing how displeased they are with that fact. “I want to alert as few people as possible.”

    “We?” You’re curious. “Are you able to do it too?” You think back to what they said before, and you wonder how it all comes together that you’re doing this instead of the person named “Frisk”.

    C gives you a look that you’re not able to place without seeing their actual face and shakes their head. It must have just been a slip of the tongue.

    You want to ask more, but decide that at this moment it’s probably not worth it. A yawn slips out of your mouth and you remember that really, you should be asleep right now, even though you’re getting taught how to do some weird shit. It makes you unbelievably nervous to think about how this place is going to be dangerous to you, enough that you need some sort of real-life save state. You were right to be worried about your chances before. “Hey, I know I’m already asking a million questions, but if that was a **save** , then I’m guessing there’s a **load** as well, right?”

    “There is,” they nod while still moving ahead of you. “I will explain how to use it in a moment. For now, we need to see what is at the end of this hall.”

    Neither of you speaks again for a few minutes. You’re not sure what to say and Chara doesn't seem to want to say anything for you now. It kind of makes you wish you didn’t have to ask so many questions. You feel like a fool, not knowing anything, even though there’s no reason to expect you to immediately get all of this at first glance. 

    You’ve never **saved** while up on the surface so why would you think you could do it down here? How _should_  you have known it was ever even a thing? In any case, you walk just behind C’s floating form as the hallway or passageway looms ever larger ahead of you. There’s a slight echo in this area and it’s making everything much creepier than it was at first glance. You take a peek over your shoulder to find that you’re only able to see about three or four feet behind you before everything is all swallowed up into the darkness.

    Perhaps it's the lack of anything unique, or perhaps it's how tired you are quickly becoming, but the end of the passageway finds you before you are expecting it. You’re still walking forward but you're watching your own feet more than anything just to make sure you don’t trip on something down here. When you hear a soft thunk, however, you look up and notice Chara has dropped to the ground, as close to fully solid as they can manage, and are kicking at a large pile of rubble ahead of you.

    “What is this?” You ask as you step forward to inspect the debris.

    They sigh, nudge a small crumbled purple brick with their foot, and float back up. Although you’re not able to see their eyes, the browning of their flowers and a distinct pout tells you that this is a disappointment to find. “It was _supposed_ to be the way out. It looks like we’re stuck here now.”

    “That doesn’t sound good.” You shine your phone’s flashlight over as much of the pile as you can. Near the top, you’re able to see small gaps in the stone leading to what must be another hall, but to access it you’d either need to climb this unstable mess or move the whole thing. “What now?”

    Chara sighs again and looks at you. “We will have to find another way from the Home. for now, you **load**. It’s …” they pause and consider their words for a moment. “It is different trying to load in a scenario like this. I think the best way to describe it is wanting to be back to where you **saved**.”

    “Like, wanting a do-over? I can try that.” You try to immerse yourself in the memory of being at that corner in the hall. It’s so much closer to Toriel’s home, if you can just get back there it’ll be a quick walk upstairs to get back into bed. You focus on wanting to do this time over, and instead of being down here, going back up there.

 

_Nothing’s happening… Am I not doing it right?_

 

    You try some more. It’s very abstract, what you think you’re trying to do. The fact that in the end, it doesn’t really matter to you is only making it harder. How can you be expected to literally bend the laws of reality if you just don’t care one way or another? You try again, one last time before another yawn escapes you C shakes their head.

    “We can work on it more in the morning.” They turn back, one more time to the pile and pull down a flower to start toying with. “For now, let us head back, B.”

 

\--------

 

    “so how are they doing? any changes?”

**There was one earlier, but it was quickly rectified. I have not seen anything since.**

    “i wish they would hurry up.”

**If you want it to go quicker, why aren’t you working on it from the outside still?**

    “old habits are hard to _break_ , pops.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! Hello!!! It's been a real hot minute, I know. For anyone curious what happened was: About 2 days after posting the last chapter, a job posting was sent to me by a friend. Long story short, I didn't get that job (no hard feelings about it now) but to make up for how kinda in the dumps about it I was at the time, I ended up switching to full time for the summer at my current job. It was a bad idea for my mental health and as such I'm quitting in hopes of getting over the burn out before university starts up again in September. 
> 
> I hope to be posting this more often, especially since the bulk of the work was done months in advance. That said, if it is a little time before the next chapter again, I hope there are no hard feelings! Catch yall on the flip-flop!
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)
> 
> EDIT: Fixed Formatting for Chara's Soulspeak Lines. 30.7.19


	11. Chapter 10 - Tea and Talks

    The morning comes gently and you find yourself waking well-rested despite your evening escapade. There’s no sunshine to gently caress your face you wake up, you don’t even realize that it’s a respectable time to start moving until you check your phone and see it’s nearly nine in the morning. The phone, you notice, is running on 20% battery, so before you leave the room, you make sure to plug it into one of the travel batteries you dig out from the bottom of your bag. Without the sunshine to wake you however, you’re not sure what finally did the trick until your stomach growls at you.

    That's a good enough reason you think as you slide out of the bed and glance around. Chara isn’t anywhere in sight, not even showing up until you call for them, softly in case Toriel is nearby. It's hard to tell without eyes to see, but you that the downward turn of their mouth is more of a resting frown than an intentional pout. 

 _ Toriel was baking earlier. It should all probably be cool by now. _ They pull a flower from the crown right above their ear, like it was a pencil tucked there for safekeeping. You kind of want to ask what they were doing all night, but the promise of food is too strong for that yet. 

    Your last glance at them before leaving the room has them plucking petals off the poor flower. _Thanks._

    It's just as hard to get any insights on the time in the rest of the house as it was to get it in ‘your’ room. That said, the fact that all the lights are on and you can hear some gentle humming coming from the kitchen is certainly helping. The smell of something fresh baked is making your stomach growl again and you’re looking forward to another home-made meal. If this was a cartoon, you’re sure you’d be floating on the scent lines through the entry and the living room.

    “Good morning, Toriel.” You say as you round the corner into the kitchen. She’s standing at the sink washing dishes while singing to herself. “Would you like some help with that?”

    She jumps at the sound of you before laughing a little to herself. “Oh, no. I am nearly finished. You must be hungry, B! I was unsure of what kind of muffin you would prefer, but I do remember our talk from yesterday. All are safe for you to consume.” Toriel takes her paws from the dishwater and wipes them off on a towel before gesturing to a cooling rack stuffed with muffins in colourful little tins.

    They look fucking delicious. How early was she up working on these? You shuffle around Toriel and the sink to be on the right side of the kitchen to have complete access. “What kinds did you make? They all look so good!”

    She leans back against the counter and starts ticking items off a list with her fingers. “There are lemon poppyseed, morning glory, bran, chocolate banana and cornbread. The bases are all colour coded so neither of us will forget.”

    You reach forward and grab a pale one with a yellow muffin tin. “Lemon poppyseed right?” 

    Toriel only gives your muffin a quick glance before telling you that you’re correct. Excited, you take a moment to peel back the wrapper and stuff part of it in your mouth before giving it a very good look. The very savoury taste of _not_ lemon flavour is what lands on your tongue as you chew. Something in you almost spits it out but the part of you that knows this is utterly delicious anyways forces you to chew and swallow.

    Toriel snorts as soon as she sees your face, and just bursts out giggling. “Forgive me, B! I could not resist, and the look on your face was perfect.”

    You just look at her for a moment before laughing a little yourself. Maybe if you hadn’t been so hungry you would have noticed that there weren’t any actual poppyseeds on the top of this one. Plus its really good too. Between her giggles, Toriel reaches out across the counter and offers you a container which you open to find full of butter and a small knife. 

    “In case you would like some, here.” She also grabs a cornbread muffin and delicately coats the top before munching on it herself. “I am not sure if this is a common human practice, I just enjoy the taste.”

    You shrug and put a little of the monster butter on your own muffin. After a moment to think about it, you grab one with a red base, this time sure it’s a lemon poppyseed one, and move towards a seat at the table. Toriel follows suit soon after, and the two of you sit in silence as you eat some breakfast. 

    The more awake you’re becoming, the more you remember the events of yesterday and last night. There are still some questions you want to ask of both Chara and Toriel, but you’re not sure how to phrase them. And then there’s still this **loading** process that needs to be explained to you. You’re not going to say it makes more sense now than it did yesterday, it still sounds buck fucking wild, but you should at least take the time to try to understand it. Unsure of how to proceed, and what you really need to know other than a different way out of the Ruins because of Chara’s intended exit being blocked, you decide to just wing it.

    Waiting for a moment where neither of you have food in your mouth, you decide to ask Toriel some more conversational questions. “So how do you keep track of a day/night cycle down here?”

    She gives you a surprised look before it is replaced with a pleased smile. “Well, when I was your age there was a complicated system of mirrors, light magic, and lanterns. About one hindered years ago it was replaced with electric lights linked to timers in the few places sunlight can be found.”

    You don't quite remember seeing anything like that in the cave you fell into so you assume that there must be other windows to the surface elsewhere. Taking another bit of food you think of what to ask next. “So, is there like an oxygen recycling system somewhere? I can't imagine there is too much natural airflow. 

    Your question gets that patient smile again. You get the feeling Toriel quite likes explaining things. “Monster food is almost entirely magic based, while human foodstuffs may be incorporated in some places. Throughout the **underground** you will find that most places do not have plants for growing food, they will instead have plants for oxygen conversion or decoration. Not much is needed though, as Snowdin is almost entirely heavily forested and creates enough clean air for the rest of us.”

    “Interesting,” you reply as you finish your muffin. “Snowdin sounds like an interesting place to see in a cave, if it's full of trees.” 

    Something tells you Toriel’s silence at this is a little less coincidental as she may want you to believe. Now’s not the time though and you brush past it.

    While you take another bite, a thought strikes you. Considering it, you snake a hand down to feel your ribs and find no pain at all. It’s strange to think that two days ago you were fine, yesterday you were very not-fine, and now you’re fine again. Monster magic must be a lot stronger than you were expecting. Realizing that you’re blissfully pain free for the moment however helps you get back on track. “Would you be willing to show me around a little today?”

    She visibly brightens at the idea of that, but before she can get to excited, you watch Toriel reign herself in. “Are you sure you are feeling well enough?”

    “Yeah, I’m feeling fine,” you assure her. “I’m still not 100% sure how you managed to get me back into tip top shape so fast, but you did it!”

    She lets out a sigh of relief. “I am glad to hear it! I was unsure of how quickly your injuries would heal as you are older than most I have had the experience of working with.”

    “So, let’s go exploring?” You’ve got to find a new exit to get out, like Chara has said, but it also sounds like a fun way to get acquainted with more of this place.

    Toriel gives you an almost wolfish grin. “Let’s go exploring!”

 

    When you left the house this morning you weren’t expecting to be standing what must be the underground equivalent of an alleyway, having the monsters’ introduction system being explained so that you could test it out for yourself on a giant dummy with a dog shaped head. Toriel said to practice making exits from monster- **soul** interactions, and that if any one goes on for too long she will come assist you. It makes you nervous, thinking about how to do this since your last attempt at this left you half dead, but you trust Toriel. In all honesty, it seems like you maybe trusted her a little too easily, but how could you not? She’s been such a big help and sweetheart the whole time you’ve known her. If it had been anything longer than two days, you might say she’s firmly placed herself as an aunt or grandmother in your family of choice.

    You’re kicking your feet against the stone floor of this area, unsure how to start things. The dummy has silly little googly eyes attached to it’s head and the shape of its body is highly foregin compared to your human measurements. It might be this strange shape that is throwing you off, or maybe the residual fear, but whatever the reason, you’re not excited about doing this.

 _You can not keep stalling forever, you know._ Chara’s voice rings quietly in the back of your head.  _What are you waiting for?_

_I’m honestly just not sure how to_ start _it in the first place._ You stare straight into the lopsided, googly eyes of the dummy. _Like. It’s not alive, what the hell am I doing here?_

    They laugh and for a moment it makes you want to laugh too. This is all so silly and at least someone else recognizes it. And then you remember you shouldn’t give away their presence without their permission. At least they seemed to have cheered up since leaving Toriel’s home earlier.

 _Well, hold on. Let me just … Okay, I think I can … brute … force it…_ In your brain, you can hear the subtle straining noises of someone doing some physical work. Despite it, you know Chara is more likely doing something metaphysical and totally invisible. You’re not even sure what’s happening until the strange object that makes up your **soul** pops out of your chest and all the colour gets sucked away with it. 

    Your reddy-purple soul is hanging, sitting peacefully in the space in front of your chest, and emitting a bright pure glow. When you stop to think, you realize that you don’t remember how it disappeared the last time you saw it, you were too busy writhing in pain. Now that it’s in front of you again, it’s a relief to still see it whole. You take a few experiment steps to each side and see that it is still following you around. A moment or two later, the feeling of someone’s hands slipping into yours greets you just before C speaks up using that soul chatter.

     _Neat, time to get this show on the road._

_So what do I have to do?_ Last time, the flower had just thrown ouch-bullets at you a few times and it super duper sucked. This time, however, you kind of have a sense of what to expect and are taking it all leagues better. Plus the knowledge that this is going to be pain-free practice is a boon.

    They suck in a breath you’re fairly certain they can’t use, and you get the feeling they’re about to start monologuing. _T hank you for asking, _ they start in the same excited and overly staged voice a show announcer might use. _For monsters with respect and an interest in becoming friends with or at least being pleasant a stranger to the person they are facing, things progress in a turn-based manner. Similar to other games or sports, the person being challenged goes first._ They give you a gentle squeeze and then pull away. For a moment you think you can see them float over to the dummy. _Although this is not a real monster, we are treating it as one. In this example, it is challenging you, so you have the first go._

    You take a step forward, about to do … something. You’re not even sure what your options are. _What_ should _I do?_

 _To put it simply, you can_ **_fight_ ** _, use an item,_ **_act_ ** _, or use_ **_mercy_ ** _._ They sound like they’re excited, but trying to be nonchalant about it.  _Do whatever you see fit._

    What’s the best way to exit this sort of thing? Toriel didn’t mention anything beyond just trying to get out of the encounter, and C explained this as a monster’s way to get to know you. **Fighting** really doesn’t sound right, you’re certain you don’t have any items that would be applicable here, and using **mercy** is a really ambiguous thing to say. **Acting** seems like the best way to get your perspective across.

 _So …_ **_acting_ ** _, what choices do I have?_

    They chuckle in your mind and again you swear you can see them floating circles around the dummy.  _Anything you can think of really, though most of the time I’d suggest first trying to get a read on the abilities of the person facing off against you._

_So what’s your take on it?_ God this sounds more and more like the sort of dream you have after playing a video game for so long that it seeps into the laws of that dream’s physics. 

 _Absolutely zero attack or defence capabilities._ They chuckle again and then there’s the quiet sound of someone flicking the googly eyes.  _Nothing but a cotton heart and some button eyes._ They pause and start snickering.  _Wait, wait! I have something better._

    You watch as both of the black centers in the googly eyes move so they're making direct if cartoonish eye contact with you.  _B, you are the apple of my eyes!_ C starts giggling to themself then, and the googly eyes go a little haywire in the process. 

    You’re not sure how exactly they’re controlling them but it does draw a bit of a laugh out of you too. _So it’s the dummy’s turn now right?_

 _Technically it would be, but since this thing cannot actually do anything, it is your turn again._ There’s a shift in the air and you can feel Chara take your hand again. It makes you wonder, for a split second of a moment, what this all looks like to Toriel, watching from nearby.

    Well, you think to yourself. What now? You decide to **act** a little more, really pretending that this is another person and not just a dummy. “Hey, I’m B! Nice to meet you.” You finish it off with a sincere smile. It feels goofy, but you’re actually starting to have a little fun.

    C laughs too, enjoying the show.  _It does not look like it is too much for conversation. Nice though! Good instincts._

    Nice! You’re proud of yourself enough that that smile hasn’t started to fade yet. As long as they all go like this, you’re sure to have the **underground** handled. It was dumb to call it a game earlier, this is real life, but you have to admit you’re starting to like this ritual of introduction. At least, as long as that fucking flower doesn’t come back. That thought sours the moment, but you do your best to push it away.

    There’s a strange energy in the air that fades just about as fast as you notice it. While you try to figure out what it could have been, you feel the sensation of hands pushing up on you and find that your soul is being returned to your chest. As soon as it is in, all the colour returns to your surroundings and you stumble a little at the change in atmosphere.

    You’ve nearly got yourself back upright when you feel a large furry paw take hold of your hand as support. Toriel is looking down on you with a bright smile and what almost looks like tears in her eyes. “Masterfully done, young one! Just remember what I have told you earlier. If you are unable to properly extricate yourself, just call for help. I shall always be nearby.”

    You nod up at her. “Thank you, Toriel. That makes me feel leagues better about this. Would you have guessed that that was actually fun? It makes my only other experience seem like a bad dream in comparison.”

    Toriel’s smile turns sad, though you think you can see her try to push through it. “‘Toriel’ seems so formal. I would like us to be friends, B. How about referring to myself as ‘Tori’ instead?”

    If she’s going to push through whatever made her sad there, you’re going to do the same. “That sounds great, Tori.” You pause for a moment trying to gauge her reaction. It's a breath of relief and brightening smile, much to your pleasure. “Now I’m sure there’s much more to this place than these halls. Let’s have some more adventure!”

 

    Toriel, or Tori as she said, leads you down a series of these alley like halls before you are once again greeted with the sight of the main city in its open cavernous space. Now that you’re feeling a bit better about being here you find yourself smiling at the various residents that wave to Tori and yourself. You do still jump a bit when two of the frog monsters jump out of a building when you aren’t expecting it. They croak something at you before quickly scuttling off. Toriel translates it as an apology and quickly turns to keep moving.

    While you’re doing your best to keep pace with her giant steps, something that had been much easier while she was caring for you, you decide to ask Chara about why you couldn’t understand them. _So why did they only sound like croaks?_

 _It is the soul speak… your soul is not as open to these people as it needs to be for you to hear them, and for them to hear you back._ The breeze brushes past you in a strange way over one shoulder and you figure that is where C currently is.

 _Huh._ You think about it for a moment. _So like, is my ability to converse with Toriel some sort of middle ground?_

    They chuckle a little, sounding pleased to hear you try to connect some dots.  _Not really. Nearly all monsters can understand English and those with the correct vocal cords speak it as well. There’s just a monster language that’s also spoken almost exclusively through souls._ The breeze shifts and you wonder where they’ve moved too now.  _Due to physical limits, Froggits can only speak Oratio, but like any other person, they can learn to read, write, and understand any language. Toriel simply knows English._

_But if I, what - cultivate a friendship strong enough I could speak with her like I do with you?_ There’s a moment where you get so distracted you nearly trip over a slightly raised cobble in the streets here. You take a moment to right yourself and then make sure you’re still following behind Tori and haven’t gotten lost yet.

 _Sure, if you wanted to._  

    It’s something interesting to think about. You pick up the pace a little so you’re walking in line with Toriel. She looks proud and happy, but you get the feeling that sadness from earlier isn’t gone yet.

    “Do you have any idea where we’re headed?” 

    She slows for a moment and glances down at you while she walks. “I did have a place in mind, yes.”

    “Cool, cool.” You’ve got an idea to hopefully cheer her up more and still accomplish your goal of trying to find an exit from this place for when you’re ready to move on. “Once we stop there, do you mind if I take the lead?”

    She gives you a bemused smile. “Sure, B. You can lead us wherever and I shall answer any questions you may have.”

    “Nice, okay,” you exclaim brightly. _As soon as we’re in control, you and I are gonna see if we can find another way out._

 _Good thinking,_ C whispers in your mind. It sounds like they are having a good day now, but a part of you worried that they are faking it for your benefit. They certainly weren't so cheery yesterday or last night. You make sure to keep these thoughts to yourself. 

    You follow Tori through another few streets down here. The buildings are so tall you have to crane your neck back just to see all the way up to the top of them. Not that you do that very often - it gives you something like vertigo to look up and see stalactites and hard earth instead of the blue sky. She leads you through comfortably sized streets for foot travel, some buildings having signs on their fronts and others having one or two small flowers planted in pots around the base. You try to focus on following her and remembering what path you’ve taken to get here instead of how the longer you spend down here, the less like a dream it feels.

    Part of the reason, you think, that you’ve been so accepting of everything so far is that it still feels fake. The minute your brain recognizes the irrefutable proof that this is it, this is life now, you think you’re going to lose it. How the hell could you do all this in real life? There’s no possible way, so you go on hoping that this is all a dream, subconsciously at least.

    Toriel eventually slows near a building with a quaint overhang and a few tables and chairs in front. After a moment trying to parse out what the sign nearby says before giving up completely, you realize this must be some sort of cafe. It’s certainly cute enough. Toriel sits at one specific table with a chair much larger than all the others. You assume it must be her regular seat considering she's at least a solid two feet taller than every other monster you’ve seen so far.

    “Join me, B?” Toriel gestures to a nearby, much more average proportioned chair which you can drag over to sit in. “I thought you might appreciate a drink while we wander the city.”

    “What options are there?” You sit carefully and take a moment to inspect the decor here a little more. You’re not able to read the signs still, no matter how much you look at them. The symbols escape your recognition. The table you’re both sitting at has a cute lace tablecloth, made with obviously very fine thread. “I am normally a tea person, but I’d love to hear what all there is! This feels like a good day to change things up.”

    Tori nods and glances around. “I too enjoy tea, but perhaps you are right. Maybe today would be a nice day to try something new.” After a moment, she brightens and you watch her reach above you to grab a menu. Your eyes follow her arm to see a spider holding another thick paper menu, likely for you.

 _Holy shit, what the fuck!_ The look on your face is probably dark with surprise and a bit of fear as your hand shakily snakes above you to grab the offered menu. Oh gods above, you really hope you didn’t make any noises when you saw it. As soon as you take the paper, the spider makes a skittering noise and quickly raises back up. The contents of your stomach feel like they’re up in your throat and you do your best not to screech a little at your suddenly crawling skin.

    Trying to calm yourself down, you focus on reading the menu. There are a few interesting options if by interesting you mean terrifying because they all say “spider” somewhere in the title. Spider cider, spider doughnuts, spider tea, even spider shortbread. 

    “Toriel, -” You raise a hand beside your mouth, blocking it from the rest of the cafe. You rush your question out. “Tori, hey. I have a quick q. Why, why does it all have “spider” in the title?”

    In the background, you can hear C laughing uproariously, but you do your best to ignore it all. Toriel takes one look at your expression and does the much more polite thing of trying to stifle her laughter. She takes a moment to gather herself before turning around her own menu and pointing to a little symbol beside a few of the items. “The items with this little symbol beside them contain spiders. The rest simply are made by spiders. If-” She pauses to snicker a little again but quickly regains control. “If that is an issue, I would suggest ordering a scone and some tea.”

    You quickly scan your own menu and find that both of these suggestions are free of the “contains spiders” symbol. You left out a sigh of relief so large that it waves the menu in its small breeze, which sets Chara off even more. Satisfied, as much as you can, that you will eat something that won’t make you want to squirm, you take a moment to read more of the menu. It’s split down the middle, though you think the right side is just a reflection of the left. On the left are more of those glyphs that you can’t read like the ones on the sign to the cafe, while the right has the items all listed in English. Helpful.

    “So why here as our first stop?” Now that you’re at least a little calmer you’re able to think straight. You can feel the air around you shift as C adjusts their invisible position.

    Toriel smiles up from looking at her own menu. “I was beginning to feel a little peckish! Besides, this is a lovely place for people watching.”

    You wouldn’t have taken this regal older woman as a people watcher. She certainly doesn’t fit the stereotype of a gossip based on what you’ve seen so far.

    Probably picking up on your surprise just as well as she picked up on the spider thing, Toriel pointedly looks out onto the street you had both walked in from. “There are so many different monsters here in the Ruins. None will bother you while we are very close together like this, so I thought it would be a nice way for you to get acquainted with the various sights. We are all simply people trying to enjoy life down here. Friends, family, strangers, rivals, and even lovers; that is who populates the **underground**. It is not as simple as running a line between you or I as monster or human.”

    You follow her gaze while she talks and really notice who all is walking past your table. There are creatures - people in many different shapes and while they’re all fairly different compared to what you may have expected, they still look like people. You don’t see any like zombies or vampires or skeletons or such nonsense that normally would come to mind when someone says “monster”. A few can be a little frightening at first glance, such as the people you’ve seen pass who are … well, rather Mike Wisousky looking, being not much more than a large eye in a round body, or the continuous stream of spiders you’ve noticed doing things in the cafe when you dare glance further inside.

    Hearing her talk and seeing so many diverse people… it makes your heart swell in a way that has Chara, fluttering around your shoulders, asking if you’re really tearing up at hearing it.

_Shut up - I’m just sentimental!_

    They laugh in your ears while you wipe your eyes to make sure you really don’t start crying.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only four more shifts at this job, including one in just a few hours. Is it strange how excited I am to be jobless? It was just a really, _really_ bad job. Anyways! As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts, ideas, comments or maybe even suggestions... ; )
> 
> Also, as soon as this job is over with I'll have like a million more hours free time. Maybe also drop me some suggestions for your favourite fics that I should check out! 
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	12. Chapter 11 - Spiders and Saves

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> No warnings!

    Your waiter is a spider. They come to your table by traversing the ceiling and quickly following their own tread down, take your orders, and scuttle back up and away. The drinks, your tea and a sort of coffee beverage for Tori, are delivered in the same manner. The snacks come only a moment later, also being dropped down by the network of ceiling spiders that you really can’t look at for too long. Toriel notices that despite some very heartwarming reminders of humanity (for lack of a better term), you’re still rather uncomfortable in the spider cafe and packages up both you and herself soon after.

    As soon as you’re both back standing on the street, she turns to you. “Would you still like to start your exploring now?”

    “Sure,” you shrug and take a sip of your tea. It’s hard to place the flavour, but there are no spiders in it which means it's delicious, thank you very much. “Ready to see your city with completely new eyes again?”

    She laughs a little and gestures for you to lead the way. After a moment’s hesitation, you start walking in a random direction. _You mentioned you knew some ways out… any ideas on how we get there?_

    The breeze around you flutters and for a moment it feels like someone brushes up against your back, but nobody is present when you glance around.  _Not really. Just keep walking and I will let you know when we get to somewhere I recognize._

    You nod a little to yourself, and to them, losing any hesitation that may be in your steps. As you wander down the street you take a moment to marvel at the construction of the roads here, they’re all rather narrow and mostly cobbled with stone. “Hey Tori,” you start as you take another sip of your drink. “Do you guys not have cars?”

    She looks at you for a moment, confused, then seems to get what you're asking. “Oh, no. They are such noisy things, and not even that much faster than walking. It is much more pleasant to do things this way, especially since the **underground** is so small in reality.” She's got a scowl on her face. 

    It's a little silly to think, but maybe the monsters want to get out as much as you do. Well, that's not silly, you think. It's silly to think they _wouldn't_ want to leave this cave. You think of your friends Jay and Monique to remind yourself why you want to get out. You take a bite of your scone and keep walking.

    You take a left at the corner, intrigued by a kiosk you see on the street. In your head, Chara makes note of it.

 _Cafe, right, left._ They repeat the actions to the both of you, hopefully locking it in their memory just in case you do get lucky today. Cafe, right, left, straight. 

    You keep moving. Most of the structures here are similar to one another so when one breaks the mould you find yourself highly intrigued. There’s a building with detailed sculptures in the windows, which Toriel elaborates as being an old museum, ( _Cafe, right, left, straight, right, straight, left, left_ ) and another with stained glass windows that are emitting a curious blue glow. This one is a chapel, Tori explains, putting a revenant hand on one of the large pillars that decorate the outside. Thinking about it for too long leaves you feeling sad inside ( _What god would let these people be trapped here?_ ). There’s a long stretch that contains a fresh market and it perplexes you to see monsters who look like oversized carrots and parsnips selling other vegetables, and maybe because of that you choose not to linger for too long. Other stores litter the area, all small and casual by the looks of things. 

    The people you pass are polite and well natured. Either they do not notice your understandable hesitation before you wave back, or they are all just spectacularly good at ignoring such things. By the third or fourth Migosp you’ve passed you’ve managed to stop flinching when you first look at them, thankfully. They’re not bugs, you know this, but they have a vaguely buglike appearance that makes you squirm for a moment.

    The scone is long gone and your tea is down to just the extra-strong liquid dregs by the time Toriel mentions that it’s probably about time to start meandering back to her home. “We have certainly traversed more of the city today than I have on my own in ages. It is nice to take a route I have never used before to get between my home and, well, everywhere I suppose.”

    “Do you know how to get back from here?” You ask as you take in the nearby architecture. You’re still unable to read the signs on anything, and generally speaking, everything looks too similar for you to have any idea where you are.

    She smiles brightly at you, “Of course I do, B!” Tori looks up at a signpost on the nearest corner and squints at. “Hm.” She takes a few steps away from you to look at the signpost from another angle. “Oh dear.”

 _Goodness, I think she got us lost._ Chara chuckles a little in your head, but it sounds kinda sad. 

    You sigh a little, _I think_ we _got us lost. Can you get me back to the cafe?_

 _Sure,_ There's a moment of silence before C goes through the whole listing of directions, and then gives you the last three, reversed so that you’ll be taking the correct turns for backtracking.

    Repeating them to yourself, you walk back up to Toriel and give her the brightest smile you can manage. “lets at least see if we can get back to the cafe, yeah?” Using Chara’s somehow impeccable memory of your choices, you are able to lead your party back to the market, where Toriel takes the lead once again. You do your best to make it seem not quite as obvious that you have a guide telling you what to do right now, faking a lack of confidence in your choices and remarking that things are unfamiliar.

    From the market, however, Toriel is able to lead you back home with confidence. You suppose that only makes sense, considering that this is likely where she gets all of her fresh food from. Fresh food made out of magic? How does that work? You have a few questions, but they’re simple and do nothing other than sate your curiosity.

    The rest of the evening is a blur. You talk with Tori some more about benign things while she cooks an early dinner to make up for the light lunch and refuses to let you help (“So if there are no cars or whatever, how do you move big furniture around when you change homes or buy something new?” or “Those spiders were sentient right? Is everything sentient down here?” being just two of the many questions you bother her with). You play a game or two on your phone, cautious not to let the battery drop too low. You’ve got backups sure, but to be perfectly honest you haven’t actually seen any power outlets so far and that makes recharging everything a hassle and half if it’s even possible. 

 

    And near the end, right before bed, Toriel looks at you like she wants to say something. You don’t know what it is, you doubt you could even fathom the many things going through her mind when she looks at you. You’re just full of questions about everything, and she is the one to answer them, mostly. You think you catch something in her expression changing, and she sighs, telling you a joke instead of whatever she had been planning on saying. Neither you nor C knows what to make of it. As soon as the lights in the halls outdoors start to dim, Toriel quickly excuses herself, saying that the amount of adventure was much more than she was used to and she’s rather tired. Even if y'all had done nothing but sit at home, you wouldn’t have argued this so you let her go without complaint.

    Shrugging, you go back to your room to chill for a while. Chara said that they’d like to do another test for **loading** and **saving** , but would prefer to do it in the basement. When the time comes, just after midnight according to your phone, you put your shoes back on and follow them below the house. 

    “So how does being down here actually keep it a secret to anyone?” You ask while you do your best to keep your footing down the long staircase with only your phone’s flashlight to guide you.

    Chara floats beside you, face and expression obscured as per the usual. At least you can see that their mouth isn’t actively frowning. “To be honest it is nothing more than a comfort. The few people down here who can feel the movement of time can feel it regardless of where it happens.” They glance around the stairwell as it transitions to being the long hallway to the destroyed door. “Being down here gives us some distance from those who might hear us talking, and practising at night means we may be able to avoid notice by the others if they are asleep.”

    They talk more when you’re not in Toriel's home, you’ve noticed. Maybe it is because when you’re down here like they said, there's no worry about you guys being overheard. Maybe not. Maybe they just talk more when Toriel isn’t around and you don’t need to worry about accidentally giving their presence away.

    Once you reach the bottom, you turn to them with a question. “Are we just going to try the same thing as last night? I’m not sure I’ll get **loading** any more than I did before, but it’s worth another go if it’s so important, right?”

    “Yeah,” they agree, nodding. “ **Save** here, walk further in and try **loading** back to right here. That way, if it works, we will have proof.”

    “But like, we know I can **save** , I did that last night, so that’s one worry less.”

    Chara faces you and cocks their head to one side slightly. If it were brighter out, you might have said that it looks like their flowers wilt slightly, but for now you’re sure it’s just a trick of the light. “Yeah, of course. Do you need me to remind you how to do it?” 

    You think for a moment. “Uh, lemme try it first and then we’ll see.”

    Will and Resolve. Those were the two things you remember best from last night. You think Chara had said something about how that’s what makes up a human **soul**? Well, there’s gotta be some sort of magic in there too, right? You’re getting distracted - Will and Resolve.

    You stand there, trying to remember what exactly had made it work the first go around for at least a minute before you sign to C. “No good, you’ll have to remind me.”

    “Sure, okay.” They drop down to stand solidly on the floor and start kicking at the small stones that litter the area. “Like I explained yesterday, it is about your will to keep going and your resolve to see this through. It can be condensed into your determination to not give up.”

    “Does it have to be about getting out of the **underground** specifically, or could it be like, determination to go upstairs and eat more muffins?”

    They chuckle a little at that. “If you want to go upstairs and eat more muffins that badly, then yeah, I guess that could work as a **save**. It just needs to be something that you want bad enough to make a safeguard for.”

    Neat, alright. That makes you feel a little better about this. The thing you want to do most, though, the one thing you refuse to give up on is getting home. You’re in the dark and cold down here, breathing stale air and dust. Even if part of you still refuses to accept the reality of being trapped with a bunch of monsters in a huge cave, you can at least understand that this isn’t where you want to be at midnight. The only ghost you know of is the one who has been guiding you around so you’re safe, probably, but still. You’d much rather be back in bed right now. Whatever comes next, you make sure you will be around to crawl back into bed once more.

    The thought that maybe you _aren’t_ safe down here strikes you and you strike it back because there’s no way in hell you’d let yourself die in a place like this. That thought draws out a sort of mad laugh from you and although you see a glimpse of confusion at first, C smiles at you. There’s a slight glow in the area and for a moment you feel warm and safe. At least until another breeze sweeps through and they laugh for real at the momentary displeasure on your face.

    “Nice job, B. Once again, your determination has led you to save. Now the real test.” Once again, you follow them further down the hall, all the way to the sharp left turn before stopping. The breeze is even stronger here but at least it keeps the air feeling a little bit fresher. 

    By the time you reach your destination, a yawn has sneaked its way out of you and C has sighed heavily at it. “Some of us have to sleep, you know.”

    “I do not think I have been capable of sleep for longer than you’ve been alive, B.” They shake their head at you, but you think you catch something sad in there. 

    “Well, it’s just as nice as I’m sure you remember.” You say without thinking. “Oh, wait. Sorry. That was probably at least a little rude of me.” Man, didn’t you say something rude down here yesterday as well?

    C turns to you, flowers of their eyes-covering crown taking on a decidedly redder tone before they just grimace and shake their head. “Whatever.”

    You feel spectacularly awkward, shifting from foot to foot while they glare in a direction that is very pointedly not yours. You struggle for a moment, wondering what to say to fix this before deciding that maybe the best way forward is to power through. “So, **loading**?”

    It takes Chara a moment to get back into a space where they’re willing to talk. You watch as they take when you can only imagine are deep but unneeded breaths, kick a few stones out of the way of their feet and seemingly force their flowers back to normal. It's a very long moment. At the end of it, they gather themself and turn back to you. “Okay, **loading.**

    “Imagine that we are doing some sort of puzzle, and you have suddenly gotten to a point where you cannot progress any further. **Loading** without failure requires you to be willing to force time back to that point where you had **saved** last.”

    “Yeah, okay.” Conceptually that makes sense, but realistically? How in the world is that supposed to happen? “So like, just wanting to be back. Alright, I can do that.”

    They shake their head. “Not quite. I did not explain it very well last time but it uses that same will and resolve from **saving** . You must want to try _again_ but want to do it differently.”

    “Oh. Okay, that actually makes way more sense.” You lean against the wall of purple bricks and try to sort out how to do it in your head. You think that you can understand the steps, hypothetically. Same as making a **save** , you gotta be determined. Will. Resolve. 

    ...

    Aw fuck you can’t actually give a shit about getting back to the save you just made. It’s literally a three minute walk away! You’re already cold and tired, getting back to it isn’t going to change anything. You sigh and push yourself off the wall. 

    “I don’t think it’s happening tonight, C.” You give them a sheepish smile. “Sorry, I guess we’re 0 for 2 huh.”

    They look at you, you think at least. They give you a long look. “That is … okay. As long as you can save then we have the knowledge that we can get through things okay.” Chara starts floating past you to get back up to Tori’s home.

    “Hey, so I have a question, C. There's two ways to do a **load** right? One is just kicking around, right, because that is what we are trying to do right now. So what’s the other time?” You do your best to keep pace with them, but you think they're working out their frustrations by going just barely too fast for you. 

    C slows for the smallest fraction of a second and refuses to turn to you. 

    “Hey, like, I get that this stuff can be hard to explain but you've been doing a pretty good job of it so far,” you attempt. “What's the other time?”

    They slow for a longer moment this time and grab a flower from their crown to start toying with. You almost don't catch that they mumble something. 

    “Pardon?”

    “You won't like it,” they say, only barely louder. 

    Your hands land on your hips and you stop dead in your tracks. “Well I’m going to find out one way or another, aren't I?” This doesn’t bode well. Not well at all.

    Chara turns to you, frantic in how they’re toying with ghostly flower after ghostly flower. All the petals wither before being picked from the center. “The other way to **load**  is to do so when you die. Because you’re going to die, B.” They pause, biting their tongue to quell that bitter tone. “Not even Frisk could make it through while taking no hits, and we did this for what must have been years.”

    “I’m go- what? What do you mean?”

    “B. Why else would you need to make a **save**? Because you know something bad is about to come next.”

 

\------------

 

**Have you started work on it?**

    “yeah, working myself to the _bone_ already.”

**All of time and space before you, and you still use the same old jokes.**

    “ain’t old if we’re outside of time, old man.”

**…**

    “so how are they looking?”

**No changes. We hope for the best.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! First off, I want to say thank you! With that last chapter pretty much every stat for a fic went up a lot for a small-time writer like me! Nearly a hundred new hits, ten new kudos, five new comments. That's pretty exciting!! Alternates is well over 600 hundred hits now! For a dead fandom I think that's pretty dang good.
> 
> And the other thing, I had mentioned in a previous note that the whole story for this was planned and at the very least, drafted. When I came back from my break-in-writing-that-was-the-opposite-of-a-vacation, I reread all of it. Thought hard about it. Decided that a lot of it was garbage. Not even self-indulgent but fun, like just straight up hot garbage. Therefore, it's been tossed out and replaced with a new plan that I like a lot better, is Shorter, and to be honest, way less of a cop-out. It's still self-indulgent and certainly not good academic fiction, but it's fun and that's what fucking counts.  
>    
> See you next time! Kiss!
> 
> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	13. Chapter 12 - Exits and Experiences Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just a simple timeskip focused chapter. Nothing to warn about!

    The next morning you wake up, having fallen from the bed during what must have been a particularly tumultuous dream. C snickers at you for a moment, but fades as quickly as they arrive due to Tori storming in to make sure you’re alright. You have a hard time convincing her that you’re fine while you’re crying, even if you don’t realize it at first. 

    “Sorry, I don’t know why I’m so sad,” you keep saying, over and over again.

    It isn’t until she asks what you were dreaming of, with the tired patience of a mother who has probably done this one too many times, that it clicks. 

    “Oh, oh.” You wipe a tear away sullenly. “I was dreaming of home, of my friends. I wonder where they think I am now.”

    Tori helps you rise from the bed, rubbing your shoulders, and leads you to the kitchen. She sets you leaning against the fridge in what is likely going to be your usual spot if you stay here any longer and fills a small metal kettle with water. She surprises you by keeping the kettle on the flat of her paw and … manifesting flame underneath it. It’s shocking, but you do vaguely remember her using fire magic to save you when you first met. Plus, before you’re able to say or do anything, she gives you a wink and a smile, and all that you can do in return is let out a watery giggle.

    Very quickly, a cup of tea is set in front of you and you’re back at the dining table, slowly picking at a muffin. Toriel watches you with a smile that looks as sad as you feel. “Would you like to tell me about your friends?” She asks you when you have at least got a little food in you.

    “Sure, I guess.” You pause to let out a heavy breath and pray you don’t start crying again. “I - my two best friends, Jay and Monique. We’re all in University together, but I’ve known them since high school. Jay is a poli-sci major, hoping to get into law next year. Monique is an arts kid and like, it’s her last year of the theatre program she’s taking.”

    Toriel gives your hand a gentle pat as it taps incessantly on the table. “And what about you, B? What do you do?”

    You let out another breath, this one is easier. You’re not going to cry, you’re not going to cry, you _will_ get back home, you’re not going to cry. “I’m an arts kid too. I’ve got one year left in my bachelor degree, and then graduate school next year, for painting.”

    “So would you say that you have learned much?”

    “Yeah.” You give her a watery smile before taking a sip of your tea. “This can be, a good learning experience too though. It’ll give me such an edge when I get back. Graduate school? That’s got to be a breeze after ending up down here with no memory of how it happened.”

    Tori returns your watery smile with one of her own, though she breaks your gaze quickly. Before you can ask if she’s okay though, she turns back to you with a more pleasant smile replacing the old one. “Would you like to join me on my rounds around the Ruins today?”

 

    You and Chara don’t find any exits today. 

 

\----

  


    You roll out of bed to find that your phone is dead. Not only is it dead, so are all of your batteries as well. You really thought you had been conservative enough to keep it going for a little longer, but you suppose, maybe all those late-night excursions into the basement to see if you’d be able to load really weren’t all that conservative. 

    There’s something bad up ahead, you know. Things are going to be hard. You want to get home. The death of the one last piece of the surface you had with you brings a sense of finality to everything that makes you want to collapse on this too small, borrowed bed and never get up again.

    Eventually, the rumble of your stomach and the unseen judgement of your ghostly guide is too much to bear and you slog your way down to the kitchen. The clock on the wall here says it’s only 7 am, but you decide not to bother with going back to bed. 

 _C?_ You ask to get their attention. _What if we went exploring on our own today?_

    There's an empty, silent moment before you hear soft words whispering back to you.  _We should stick to the side near to the house. I think that the next most accessible exit must be nearby because Snowdin is on this side._   

    You hold your dead phone in your hands, staring out into the middle distance and wonder if it really is safe to go out there by yourself. If you want to get out enough to risk whatever is out there getting you when there's always the possibility of people coming to get you. Friends coming to find you. 

    When Tori wakes up soon after, she offers you a “monster phone” that looks surprisingly like an old mozilla flip phone, which already has her number entered into it, and tells you to have fun out there. There’s more to it than that, things like “Call me when you are ready for lunch, I will come to collect you and then we can travel to a restaurant.” or “If you need anything, I will be doing my rounds and can find you easily.” It feels like a push out of the door. Waiting and giving in to your fears has been pushed aside before you could decide on your own.

    Part of you wants to ask why she is willing to let you go off on your own so easily, but the rest of you is too busy squabbling over whether your fear of dying is worth making it back to your life on the surface. Thinking of home, of your friends, of your cat, of seeing the sun, you push everything aside and let C lead you out the front door of Toriel’s home to go wandering. 

    Chara urges you to stay to the alleys instead of exploring the city proper for now.  _We have a better chance of finding things that the average human would be kept very far away from if we are sneaky. Being sneaky means walking the hidden roads._

    You don't have a good argument against that, so you follow their lead. 

    The first time you come across another living thing in those halls is something indeed. You aren't expecting the Froggit to jump around a corner and nearly plough right into you, and based on their reaction, they weren't expecting you either. If you had had more time to think, you would have commended yourself for not calling out in fear or shock, neither when the Froggit first appeared, or when your soul is sucked out into the world and you back into the dark version of the hall. 

    Chara’s hand slips into yours and a whisper worms its way into the back of your skull.  _Time to see if that training worked._

    You see your soul in front of you, bright red around its edges with that solid purple centre. It’s beautiful and magical and beating in time with your physical heart which is about to jump out of your goddamn chest. 

_Calm down, it is okay, you are fine._

    You take a deep breath and squeeze the transparent hand that is holding yours. _My go first, right?_ Across this small expanse is the Froggit, pale greys with dark shadows. As soon as you finish this it'll be safe again, inside your body where you're fairly certain it goes.

    You think you can hear them smiling at you having remembered that.  _Yeah. What do you want to do?_

    The Froggit is looking on in confusion, unsure of what to do now that you’re here and in this. There’s something about the shadows under them that doesn’t make sense to your human sense but you brush past it, trying to remember what you had been told to do in this situation. _Uhm, check? On what their abilities are?_

    They chuckle and slip from your hands.  _Got it._ There’s a moment where you think you see them float over and do a quick circle of your … opponent?  _This creature looks like it has a hard life. Middling defence, best attack is jumping._  There’s a glimmer in the air and you feel your hand being grabbed again. 

 _Now it’s their turn, right?_ You squeeze C’s hand and take another look at the Froggit. It looks scared. 

 _ Yeah. Get ready to move okay?  _ The Froggit’s eyes widen as it seems to realize that it is up to them, you're done for now. There’s something in their froggy expression that keeps getting wider, more frantic, and you think that that fear is taking over them. Chara grips your hand a little tighter as the Froggit jumps in your direction and you quickly sidestep. They seem too confused to understand that you’re across from them and you probably wouldn’t appreciate being trampled by something only 3 feet tall.

    You have to jump back to the side a few more times, always only a moment away from being hit. It feels like it’s nearly ten minutes of jumping around but in reality, it's probably only 30 seconds, a minute at most. Once they slow down, they seem to refocus and they look at you, eyes wide. You think that if a frog can look horrified, this is it.

 _Okay, this is going… better and worse than expected._ Chara intones while they squeeze your hand.  _It is your turn again._

_How do I make this end? They seem so upset…_ You bring a hand up and try to push your soul back into your chest only to have it pass right through. The fear that something awful is going to happen is only matched by the fear you feel coming from the Froggit across from you again. Their normally mottled green skin is a pale grey tinged with pink by your soul’s glow.

_Say something. Make an **action**_ _._

    You _look_ at the monster-frog. They are glancing nervously from side to side, scared, but if you take a step towards them, they take a step back. It’s hard to process, but you think they are scared of _you_. “Uh, hello?” The froggit’s eyes snap to you immediately. You stumble over what to say next. “You seem really… nice?” 

    Something foggy takes over the froggit’s eyes and you think for a moment that it can’t be that easy right, when the fog gets stronger and they start bouncing around again. C squeezes your hand again.

_You did well. Now move._   

    Expecting it this time, you keep your eyes on the Froggit as they bounce around, leaping at you. For a moment you get a little cocky and don’t move as far as you could have as they jumped past you. There’s a sharp stinging on your leg as you realize that something must have cut your calf. You look down to see only a small mark before they are jumping at you again and you need to move further away this time, You don’t get hit again.

    It makes your brain spin. There’s an ache around your ankles that you shake off as you take the next step.

    Once the Froggit seems to have calmed themself down, you wait for the signal that it’s your go. Surely just hoping it would end after the first round was too much, but with any luck, you can make it end now. You have an epiphany. “Hey, you know, we don’t have to do this, right?” You open your hands in what you hope is a welcoming gesture. “We’re friends, right?”

    The Froggit’s eyes defrost completely and are watching you with crystal clear clarity. They nod slowly. 

    You smile as nicely as you can. They smile back, before turning on an amphibious (probably?) heel, and hopping away quickly. Your soul slips back into your chest silently, and you drop to the ground with a heavy sigh. It takes your eyes a moment to readjust to the colours and light of this corridor.

    After sitting for a moment, you take a moment to check out how your leg looks. There’s a small amount of blood but it seems to have dried already. You exhale roughly as you poke at the sore skin around it. 

    “We should go home, I think.” You say quietly, shakily. 

    You don’t look up, but you notice the change in the air as Chara shifts around you and their feet come into view, just a few inches off the ground. “...Okay.”

 

    You don’t find an exit today either.

  


\------------

  


    You wake up with an unsteady feeling in your stomach. The air around you feels even drier than normal and it closes tight on your throat. It's hard to feign enthusiasm for the day well enough to please Tori, but you really just want to explore as much as possible. Your first real encounter was hard, though it’s physical reminders are nearly gone. Dinner last night had helped immensely once you had cleaned your leg up enough that you hoped Tori wouldn't notice it. Breakfast helps too, once you've had it as well. You don't doubt that she would raise concerns about you going off “alone” if she knew that one of her peers had done you harm. 

    You smile brightly through your time with her, before dashing off not long after eating. The halls outside are just as stagnant and monotonous as before. The only difference today is that you feel more frustration. Chara leads the two of you down an unfamiliar-yet-familiar path that feels like it is the same as every single other one. They promise it’s not one you’ve gone down yet. You follow their lead. 

    The minutes stretch into hours and the only thing that breaks it up is the occasional backtracking to get to a fork in the road and take another turn. That and the occasional “battle” with the monsters. The first one, yesterday, was hard. It was over quickly, but it was still hard. Comparing the Moldsmal who you just had to dance at, or the Whimsum who you could give **mercy** to immediately, the rest of these are simple. 

    Be nice. It’s so simple. You can do that, it’s what you were taught to always strive to do. Be kind, be courteous, be accepting, and be accommodating. Not many monsters want to tousle with you anyways. As soon as one is gone, that's it for several hours or until you both reach a new area. By the time you and C feel like you must have done a full loop of the **Ruins** through the back alleys, you swear you’ve got the needed actions memorized. It’s so unbelievably simple.

    Maybe if more of these people were willing to talk to you, you’d be able to keep simplicity from becoming monotony. 

    Not that you blame them for high-tailing it away once they realize you’re peaceful. Sure they’re just getting a feel for who you are as a person, but it must be embarrassing to do that to someone who won’t do anything more than talk in return. Your customer service voice is getting much more practice down here trying to be that kind, accommodating soul than you would have ever expected. Maybe it serves them right to be embarrassed about it.

    You walk, one foot after another until they begin to hurt, weary from the travels. Then you tell C it’s time to turn around and head back. They grimace. They seem to be doing that a lot now. You don’t blame them.

 

_Are there even any exits left?_

 

\-------

 

    There is a knocking at the door.

    You slink out of the ocean that makes up this room, feet lethargic across the dusty sands of this beach. There is a knock at the door, sounding like rocks crashing against wood. 

    The boats hitched to the dock are smashing up against it, thrown about by the tumultuous waves. There is a knock at the door, sounding like a whisper of words screeched in the thunder.

_“Wake up, wake up, wake up. You are still needed. Your work is not yet done. Wake up, wake up, wake up.”_

    You look out at the ocean, it’s terrifying lightning and rain dancing across the horizon. The knock at the door gets quieter, gentler, like sand sifting through your fingers.

    The door is miles away, a distance so far that you should not know it is a door, while the water is back at your toes, beckoning you to return, to ignore the door, to embrace the chaos. The knocking at the door has stopped. 

_“Dream a little longer. Rest, dream, sleep. Prepare, for your work is not yet done.”_

    You dive back in.

 

\----------

 

    The air feels bad. You hope your cat is being fed okay. Has anyone remembered to change her cat litter? You really really hope the little creature is getting the treatment she deserves. You cough slightly, but all it does is make the air taste worse. is it always this bad or is it just something about today? Maybe even just getting used to it would be better than this. If you can forget the clean surface air then things will not be so bad because there won't be anything to compare to.

    Sliding out of bed and looking around, C is nowhere to be seen. What do they even get up to at night? You’re fairly certain they’ve already read through all the books here. Maybe they’ve been sneaking some off of Tori’s bookshelf in the living room? You can’t remember if their soul-tether gives them enough slack to go that far or not. You sigh.

_Hey, if you’re nearby, dip for a minute. I’m gonna change._

    Waiting for a moment, you don’t get a response. 

    Whatever. Even if they don't feel like talking, you warned them to look away. Casting a cautious glance around the room, just to see if they showed up, you get ready for the day. It's strange to think that you’re falling into a routine here. How long have you been here now, you wonder as you pull on the tunic Toriel had lent you, six days? A week? That's not that long but it's also so so long. They have to have realized that you’re gone by now, right? Your heart stutters when you think about it. 

 

_No, no. I’m just being silly and defeatist._

 

    Your eyes drift over to that spot on the carpet Chara likes to occupy when they’re stuck in here with you. 

 

_They are my best friends. They must miss me._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another shorter one! I've been away from home for about a week now and will be gone for about another week. Not a lot of time for writing when you're out visiting >.> There is more I wanted to include near the end but rather than wait and hope i have enough time to finish this scene before heading back home, i thought it would be better to just post what I have now. 
> 
> Thanks for reading, I'd love to hear your feedback!
> 
>  
> 
> **EDIT 23.8.19: Just got back, went to check on the new stats... realized just how badly this needed a second pass of editing.... oops**
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	14. Chapter 13 - Exits and Experience Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here's the second half of the chapter from about a week ago! Nothing to comment on, other than that the Next one will be the last one in the Ruins.

    You push open the door to your room to see C leaning against a wall further down the hall. They watch without moving as you give them a small wave before turning and heading towards the kitchen. You don’t want to think about what may be waiting for you when you get home, or how likely it is or isn't that you’ll get home in the first place. Instead, you want breakfast and something to distract you from the pain. 

    While you walk you focus on just how good a home-cooked breakfast is going to be and try to push any other thoughts aside. Maybe it’ll just be leftovers, which is fine. You had been happily surprised to find out that Toriel is an amazing cook as well as a very talented baker. It probably has something to do with how she is able to cook things at a highly controlled temperature. Fire magic is so fucking cool. You’ve reached your destination by the time you’re thinking about this and are unsurprised to find her indeed in the kitchen facing away from you. The only thing that seems removed from your new normal is that it doesn’t look like she is making anything. There’s no gentle crackle of her fire magic, nor hum of the oven or stovetop. No rushing water through to the sink and certainly no smell of freshly made anything.

    You slowly walk up behind her, sort of worried at the sudden break in routine. “Good morning, Tori. Everything okay?”

    She jumps a little at the sound before turning. “Goodness, B. I had not heard your approach.” She glances over her shoulder back at the counter. “I was thinking… Well, I was interested in learning more about you and your customs.”

    You take your usual spot leaning against the fridge. “Of course, Tori. Ask away.”

    Toriel gives you a bit of an embarrassed smile, no teeth but the tinges of blush under her pale fur. “Well I can understand why speaking about your home life is hard, so instead I would prefer to learn more about your customs and interests. What things make you feel more comfortable?”

    You lean a little further into the fridge, knocking your head against it. “To be honest, from what I’ve seen of your customs, there’s barely any difference from mine.” You pause a moment to think, your heart beating a little harder to remind you of its presence. “Well, minus the magic and all that.”

    She laughs a little and that seems to help her ease up, which helps you ease up too. 

    “So what are you interested in learning about?” Your stomach gurgles and that brings things around full circle. “Can we talk while we cook?”

    Tori laughs at that and that brings her around to being her normal bubbly self. “Of course. Would you be interested in taking the lead position today? I would enjoy assisting you if you would like.”

    “Sure, I can take over today.” You pull up from the fridge and open it to take a look inside. “Any requests?”

  


    The rest of the morning is a blur. You have to admit that you appreciated her acting as some sort of a sous chef to help while you made a tasty but not unusual breakfast of variety omelettes and some hash browns. Toriel’s knife skills were amazing and as soon as you realized that she was so much better at dicing potatoes you handed the job over to her. At one point you explained that they’re not really any particular sort of omelette, just a good base recipe to add whatever you want into. As soon as that was said, she had managed to pull out some snails which she gleefully asked you to add to hers. 

    As soon as you two had finished eating and cleaning up, you excuse yourself back to your bedroom. Chara is waiting as you enter, lounging pointedly across the bed. Didn’t they mention once that they can’t sleep?

    “I think we may have better luck if we make a map as we progress.” They start immediately, though not bothering to move from their position. “If you would be able to borrow one of Toriel’s maps for perhaps twenty minutes, as well as some blank paper, I can copy it over.”

    “Oh.” You still haven’t figured out a way to respond to their casual straightforwardness. Come to think of it, you haven’t found the best way to deal with the times when they’re beating around the bush either. They are just so on edge here you can barely get anything out of them that isn’t one or the other. “Well okay. I can, uh, I’ll just go ask?” Your mouth fails to work properly.  “I think, mm, uhm, I think there was a notepad in the bottom of my bag. Would that be large enough paper to copy onto? Or should I ask for something larger?”

    They finally look over towards you before continuing on to your bag. “Maybe a little larger. It does not need to be as big as a normal map; something average paper size should be about large enough.”

    You nod and step back out, sighing as soon as the door is closed. Man this place is weird and stifling and so so draining. You have to appreciate their focus on the end goal, though. Toriel is sitting quietly in the main room, flipping through one of her many books from the shelf. 

    “Hey, Tori. I have a question for you,’ you start as you walk up. “Do you have a map of the city that I can borrow?”

    She glances up from the book and considers what you asked before gently shutting it.  There's a flash of emotion before her face returns to a calm state. “Can I ask in return why you need it?”

    “Ah well,” you struggle for a moment while you come up with some sort of cover. “I, uh, I’m still not very good at telling a lot of the roads apart. I can find my way around usually, but I thought that maybe a map would help. For a little while at least.”

    There’s something about how Toriel is looking at you that makes you squirm. Chara wouldn’t have let themself be seen, right? And while you’ve been told that she’s the one to remove the most normal exit from the **Ruins** , Tori herself hasn’t actually said anything to you about moving further into the **Underground**. So while you know she doesn’t approve of what you’re doing, there's no way for her to actually know what it is, or know that you know she won’t like it. Why else would she be watching you with such a forceful calm though?

    Her carefully schooled neutral expression cracks a little and you hope that the sigh you think you hear is one of relief. “I understand that. I felt much the same way when the buildings were first raised.” Toriel shakes her head a little continuing. “I suppose that If sheer repetition is not enough to place it in your memory then a map is the next best option. Follow me to my room, I may have one suitable in my desk.”

    The older monster rises slowly and takes one more solid look at you before continuing down the hall. You have to admit you’ve never really been this far down and you’re sort of curious. As you pass your room, you can feel the watchful, invisible gaze of Chara linger on you. Somehow, you resist the urge to roll your eyes at them. 

    By the time Toriel has opened the door to her room, whatever weird thing had happened in the living room was gone. She smiles politely while asking that you not go touching anything. Its a normal room, just with very large furniture. Her bed is at least a California king. Wait, maybe you mean Alaskan king. Whichever is bigger, doesn’t matter, stop getting distracted. You pinch the inside of your arm in an effort to help you focus instead of getting very lost in this new space. Toriel’s desk in the corner is a heavy, varnished wood, the sort that are ridiculously expensive back on the surface. As she leans down to open one of it’s smaller drawers, you have to admit that it looks to be the perfect size for her.

    “Hm. I have two that may be suitable for your purposes, B. Both are rather old however.” She pulls herself back up and hands you both with a smile. “If you wish to take them both on your daily walk today to see which you find more useful, I would not mind that.”

    Both folded sheets of paper are placed gently into your grasp. Even without opening them you can tell that they must be decades old at least. The paper is yellowing, without much colour, and if you’re perfectly honest you think you can see old pen marks on both, so faded that they’re beginning to fade away. The crispness of the paper makes you worried that they may crack when opened but around one edge you can already see some clear tape holding things together. 

    Internally at least, you breathe a sigh of relief. Finally you can make some progress. Although Chara’s method of just memorizing which paths you’d gone down was working so far, it wasn’t going fast enough. They were right to ask for you to grab one and if you had been thinking straight, you should have asked Toriel about this much sooner. You hold them to your chest. “Thank you, Tori! They’ll be a big help, I’m sure.” You give her an honest smile which she returns easily. “Soon I’ll be the one leading you around this place.”

    She laughs at that. Toriel really is a kind soul through and through, you think as you go to make your exit. Before you can get all the way out though, she clears her throat.

    “B, I think I have an idea.” Her mouth is smiling but her eyes have that same forced calm from before. “You expressed an interest in entering the museum a few days ago, correct? Why do we not test your map reading abilities?”

    A rock hurtles to the bottom of your stomach. Your brain justs off and your mouth turns itself to autopilot while trying to back out of this situation. “Uh, I mean, uh, sure! I love museums! This, sounds like a great idea! Let me, uhm, let me go grab my coat, okay?” 

    Toriel waves you out while turning to go deeper into her room. “Of course, of course. I should also grab mine as well. It was chilly yesterday down…”

    You slink out of the door and back to your room before you hear the rest of what she was saying.  

    Chara is still lounging on the bed, but they sit up as soon as you enter. 

    “Did you hear what she said?”

    “No, but I can sense your unease.”

    “I guess it’s a group outing today,” you head over to the corner where you’ve been keeping your belongings in a neat pile and grab your coat. “It’s not as bad, as I think it is though. There’s no way she could know what we’re planning, and even if she did, it’s not like she never told me not to.”

    C pushes up from the bed and floats over to you, gently dropping down and plucking the maps from you grasp. “Well, you got them at least. As long as you can hold on to at least one of these until we get back and I can memorize it or copy it down, things will be okay.”

    A stab of fear goes through your heart. “What if she doesn’t want me to leave so I get locked up in here?”

    They drop the maps to the floor and float up so their flower covered face is perfectly in line with yours. You watch as the flowers swirl between a soft yellow, pure gold, and something approaching white. “B. Look at me. You really think the ghost who can fly through walls would be unable to find a way out for you?”

    Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Breathe in. Hold. Breathe out. Breathe in, hold, breathe out. You stare at them about where the eyes would be. There’s two flowers, particularly large, in almost the right spots. Breathe in, hold, breathe out.

    They nod once to you, and you nod back.

    Breathe in, hold, breathe out.

    You gather your coat, the maps, your monster phone, and make sure the shard of C’s soul is secured in your pockets. 

 _Thank you_ , you whisper as you exit your room to meet Toriel in the front entrance. 

    The silence lasts only a moment before they answer, almost sounding embarrassed. _I have a promise to uphold._

  
  


    Toriel leads you to the main entrance of the **Ruins** before unfolding one of the maps and pointing to your location on it. It looks like it had been made when the city was still booming. Every street is named but you can barely read any of it, as well as a few neighbourhood divisions were drawn out. She searches a collection of buildings near the center of the town and asks you with a playful smile not to look. You decide to humour her, pulling out the other map and unfolding it with caution. This one looks even older, referring to a sequence of tunnels all around the outside of the city. It's so old in fact that the **Ruins** are referred to as the “ **Home** Planning Site”

    As you look over it you can feel the twisting air around your shoulders indicating Chara is leaning around your shoulders. **_Home_ ** _was the name of_ **_Ruins_ ** _in the past, right?_

 _Yeah. When I was alive, people were first starting to leave. Things were getting worse in the city, but it was not yet the_ **_Ruins_ ** _._ They shift and circle you while they whisper directly to your soul.  _I think this map will be very useful, If at all possible, please hold on to this one._

_Okay_. You give it one more once over, still unable to recognize anything of importance, before folding it back over. “Have you found what you were looking for?”

    “I did!” She beams at you before handing the city map back. “We are here, on this stretch of road. The place we are looking for is titled the Senex Museum. I wished to find the official name so that you could lead us to the correct location.”

    You cock an eyebrow at her having to look for the name of this place. Toriel catches on quickly enough and lets out a slightly embarrassed laugh at your expression. 

    “It has many years since anyone has needed to refer to it by its full title, B.” She gives you a toothy grin. “It is simply ‘the museum’ to most of us.”

    “Okay, sure.” You take a closer look at the map. It’s a jumble of streets, some writing that looks vaguely English, if in weird handwriting, but not too large. You fold the edges slightly so that it’s easier to hold while seeing what you think is the most important areas. _Are you able to read this? Is it really English or is my brain thinking it can see words in the scribbles?_

    There is a sigh and the shifting of air around you.  _I… hm. I recognize some things but not others. And parts of it_ are _written in English, others look like Oratio and some are what I can only describe as a bastardization of the two._ They twirl around you again, this time the sound of them seeming to emanate from the other side of your head.  _Not that it matters anyway. I can just lead us back to the museum from when we passed it a few days ago._

_Hey now that I’m here, I kinda want to see how well I can do with just the map._ You look down at it trying to find a building titled “Senex Museum” or anything similar. Even the things you think are written in English are so hard to decipher you’re totally lost. _Well, I’d like to try if you can at least point out where it is on here._

    They bark out a single “ha.”  _It’d be so much faster if we just did it my way, but if you insist. … Why don’t you admit to her you can’t read it?_ C prods.

    You turn away slightly from the direction it sounds like they are in, embarrassed. _She obviously thinks I can read it, and I -  I don’t want to let her down._ It’s silly, right? If she’s your friend then it’s not like you’d be letting her down. You’re just asking for some help from a friend. Still, you can feel your cheeks flare slightly.

    There’s a long moment of silence. You can see Toriel watching you as you pretend to be scouring the map instead of arguing with your solo guide. What does it look like to her? Are you acting well enough that she won’t question it? Is this all just playing out like Scrubs, right down to how weird it is when you take out JD’s internal dialogue?

    The long silence is broken by a quiet mutter of “you are just like them, too stubborn” before there’s movement in the air and you can feel someone poking the map in your hands. _Here. This is the museum._  

    You search the paper for an indicator and find it in the bends of the paper. Even if you can’t see it, C must be sticking their finger into the paper to push it back enough that you can tell. Right in the indent, there’s a small phrase over a building outlined separately from the rest of a street. The first word looks like gibberish symbols, while the second you make out to be a handwritten “Museme” which while incorrect, is close enough. 

    It’s not a straight shot from here to there, but based on what Tori said is your starting location, you’re confident you can get there easily enough. _Thank you,_ you whisper internally while turning to your goat-ish companion. “I believe I’ve found it!”

    She claps her hands together and smiles. “I knew you could do it! Are we ready to see just how right you are?”

    “Sure, let’s see how right I am.” Smiling back, y fold the map smaller so it’s just showing you the path to your destination. This is exactly why you didn’t want to ask for help. 

  
  


    The path to the museum is honestly fairly simple, and the way back even moreso. Chara elects to stay silent for most of the journey, just answering any stray question you may have while you walk. Toriel babbles occasionally about how nice it is to be enjoying the day downtown. She’s right, you think, the time goes faster when you’re not alone. A small voice in the back of your head, entirely your own, keeps reminding you however that you could be using this time to search for a way out. Not that it’s exactly saying that you’re wasting the day, but it’s pretty damn close. You think that’s probably what C is feeling too: that today could be more useful to your plans.

    While you had been hoping to at least be able to enter the building and learn some more about your temporary hosts, both you and Toriel had been saddened to learn that the doors were all locked. She left you temporarily to speak with some nearby monsters and came back with a sad expression. You just hope that this place of local importance isn’t left to become as ruinous as the edges of the city around it.  

    By the time you return home, its early afternoon. Toriel, unwilling to let you go so easily for your own exploration, asks you to continue to spend time with her. You could always just say that you’re not feeling well and retreat to your room for the night, but that won’t solve the issue here. Instead, you agree, but go put both maps and Chara’s soul shard in your room. _Do what you can_ , you implore of them, and they appear, just before you leave again, to say that they will. 

    Toriel has a fun-filled afternoon of trying to learn more about you. She asks what sort of books you enjoy reading if anything on her quaint bookshelf appeals to you. You have to admit you’re surprised to find some books you’ve read before, the newest by far being a battered and water-damaged copy of _Bridge to Terabithia_ but others being _Pippi Longstocking_ or _Little House on the Prairie_. Things you would have read as a child from your grandmother’s collection. 

    Once you’ve admitted this and she's dragged every piece of information out of you about this, she moves on to asking about how you pass the time. To your great relief, she _does_ know what a tv is, as well as has a base idea about what computers are. It makes sense that what she does know is a little out of date, but despite the proof (the monster phones), you have to admit you were sort of worried that she would have no idea what you’re talking about. She gets a sad look on her face when you say that you normally spend your time on the internet or watching tv, or spending time with friends.

    A small part of you is glad that she must feel sad at that. If only you weren’t being cooped up in here you could be trying to get home to them. 

    The rest of you quickly tells that bit to shut up. There’s no point in being rude, and C is still working on the maps right now. Hopefully, their memory is good enough that they’re able to mark down what tunnels you’ve both explored. You tell that little bit to keep it down because this woman took you in and has been housing you, free of cost, and feeding you for little more than the company. 

    You tell that bit to step off and let you try to enjoy this time.

    You don’t find any exits today.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello!! Here's the other half, which i accidentally let get a little long. woops! anyways, here is that bit. The previous chapter has also been edited since being posted, but it was mostly me just fixing grammar mistakes. Don't worry about missing any content!  
> I'd also like to mention that next week, university is starting back up. I've been on a bit of a roll the past week or so and have two further chapters all ready to go (ive been listening to drop pop candy on repeat and like i banged out a solid 2000 words today alone). That said! I'll probably keep it to a chapter every two weeks or so, that way there's always some content to look forward to.
> 
> Comments are always appreciated, and if you want to know more or wanna chat about unrelated stuff hit the link down below!  
>  **Edit: 8.5.19** Just finished reformatting a little, and holy shit 1K hits!! AHH. thanks everyone! thats so nice!!  
> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	15. Chapter 14 - Roads and Ruins

    You roll out of bed and start coughing. There isn’t anything special in the air, nothing different compared to its normal combination of soot, dust, and general must. Knowing that doesn’t stop you from feeling like you’re about to hack your lungs out though. It takes a few moments too long to stop and by the end of it, your head is pounding. It’s not a good sign of how today is going to go. For a long moment afterwards, you curl in on yourself and wonder if you really need to get up. Maybe more sleep would help?

    That is, until the phantasmal form of C fades in and starts watching you. You know they’re doing so, even if you keep your eyes closed. It's like a sixth sense that just tells you when they’re being annoying. Even like this, you can feel their eyes boring holes into your back. Unable to take the crawling feeling that that gives you, you roll over and stare back at them. 

    “So are we going to get any real work done today?” There's a bite to their tone that it’s way too early for.

    “Yeah, yeah, just-” you wave a hand at them and try to roll back over but a fit of coughing wracks you again. “Okay fuck, ouch.”

    You look at them and from under those flowers, it looks like Chara is smirking at you. 

    “Fine, okay! If this is you and the universe colluding I'm gonna be so pissed,” you mutter as you slide out from underneath the covers. “I just wanted to sleep a little longer.” 

    As soon as you’re out, you find the old flip phone entrusted to you and open it to check the time. It’s only 7:30. You narrow your eyes at the text until the glow of the numbers starts to swim. From behind you, C clears their throat and you’re reminded that apparently you’re on some sort of a schedule here. You close the phone and grab some clothing for the day, electing to just get changed in the washroom. It’s not worth telling them to get lost for the few minutes it takes to change. As soon as you get back to the room though, you’re glaring daggers at them.

    Couldn’t they at least have let you had a full night's rest?

    “You should eat before we head out.”

    “I know.”

    “I do not want you chickening out. There is a very good chance that we might find the exit today.”

    “I hope so.”

    “Well?”

    “Well what.”

    Chara’s flowers darken in colour, getting closer and closer to a deep, dark red. “Go do it! We do not have forever!”

    You could argue, tell them to get stuffed and you crawl back into bed, but another cough hurtles full force from your lungs. Something is up with them today, and gods above you just need some fresh air. Instead, you elect to just glare at them and leave with a “hmph”. They may be right, but that doesn’t mean you have to like it.

    Toriel isn’t around when you make your way through the rest of the house. You don’t know if that is a blessing or a curse because while you don’t need to worry about trying to explain what’s suddenly put you in a bad mood this morning, you’re stuck dealing with that bad mood alone. 

    On the counter are some pastries under a small cover. You’re not sure when she had the time to make them, they don’t seem like they had just been finished in the last hour, but you know she couldn’t have done it while you were still awake yesterday. Normally you’d be unsure of whether to have some or not without her here to tell you to take a little danish looking thing, but there’s a note taped to the top of the cover that just reads “B! Please enjoy these treats!” It’s got a smiley face drawn beside it. The general annoyance for the day melts away a little seeing that. You can’t find it in you to be quite as upset when there’s some fresh baked goodies made for you and signed off with a note. It’s just too sweet.

    Taking one from under the cover, you lean back and just try to savour this moment. Sure you’re still annoyed with Chara, and annoyed at yourself for still being stuck down here, stuck in what is only supposed to be a small part of the  **underground** , but you try to savour this moment. These few days with Toriel have been not too bad and you hope to count her as a friend in the future. 

    Perhaps you could even count her as a friend now if you weren’t so worried that she might try to keep you here in the  **Ruins** . As far as she would be aware, Toriel would be choosing your safety over your chances of making it home. For you though, it's more a question of if your will is strong enough. Safety doesn’t really matter since you have the  **saves** and  **loads** that C is so sure about. 

    You finish your chosen pastry and grab another before wandering back to your room. You’re actually feeling a bit better, less antagonistic for the sake of being angry. Instead its more like being antagonistic for the sake of being antagonistic. You haven't been gone more than ten minutes, but you doubt that is fast enough to appease the ghostly teenager you’re stuck with. As soon as you get back in, they’ve appeared and are hounding you to get a move on.

    “No lollygagging today, B. The sooner we leave, the sooner we can make it to the  **surface** .” C drops from the characteristic float to walk over to your coat, grab it as well as the two now heavily annotated maps, and then dump them into your arms. “Let us get moving.”

    You drop the maps back to the floor so that you can put the coat on, much to the floating again-ghost’s chagrin. It does give you a little satisfaction when they just turn away, though you wish you could have seen if they rolled their eyes or not. “Let me just send a text to Tori and then we can go.”

    They just float through the wall back into the hall instead of responding. 

    It’s pretty fun to annoy them, now that your own mood is a little bit better.

 

    Your feet hurt. 

    You wish you had grabbed a pastry to take with you, or a water bottle or something.

    Chara’s frustration can be seen in the fading, phantasmal trail of buttercup heads that lie in your wake. Every few seconds another one drifts to the ground beside you as you trail after your guide. What little good mood you had managed to scrounge up has been worn away by their incessant grumbling.

    You’ve got the map of the caves, a pencil, and your monster phone’s flashlight all out right now. Every new path you two go down, you mark off every cave in, every bricked over opening, every building that wasn’t there when the map was made, and then you direct C down the next path. It only recently passed noon, meaning you’ve been out here for like four hours just mapping the back roads with no luck. Every path ends somewhere.

    “Okay, I know you don’t have to deal with bodily functions or anything, but I do. Let’s head into town, get Tori to meet us somewhere for lunch, and then go again.” You slow down and unfold the map a little, trying to quickly find a quick way back in. “We’ve gone through most of the northern caves now anyways.”

    “We still have not found anything though,” they pop the head off another flower and then another, and a third, all in quick succession. Every flower you can see is red, but wilted. “There is nothing more frustrating than this. Why did she have to break the damn door in the basement!”

    You just sigh and catch up to them. “It’ll be a left up ahead, C.”

    They continue to grumble as they follow your directions. The closer you both get to civilization, the more transparent they make themselves until you’re not able to see them at all any more. 

    Instead of texting her, you had called Toriel to ask for a suitable lunch location. She suggested the spider cafe, and you did your best to be polite in how you very much denied that choice. With a laugh she had suggested a place by the name of “Lettuce Eat Greens” and while you’re sure it’s going to throw a curveball at you that you’re not emotionally prepared for, any food sounds good at this point.

    You can feel Chara twisting angrily around your head, the air has a dark feel to it. It's not making you feel annoyed with how today has gone, instead, they’re infecting you with unease. Once you start to walk on roads in the town again, their unease has you watching for fast-moving shadows or unfamiliar monsters. If a froggit jumps a little too quickly, your hand goes to your chest as if to keep your soul inside. 

    The first few times, Chara seemed to get a kick out of it. But when it kept happening, you could feel some of that annoyance and anger drain from them. The air feels more stable once they calm some. It helps you keep it together better, knowing that they’re not as actively antagonistic. That said, when a whimsum accidentally flies into you around a corner and you both watch in shock as your soul gets knocked out, there is nothing to do to stop the fear from surging inside.

    To everyone’s relief, the whimsum runs away and you’re able to collect yourself without anything actually having happened. You think some of the locals who had been within eyesight are staring at you while you try to recover, but nobody says anything. And after that, C leaves the airspace right around you to move further ahead. Neither of you says anything unless it’s them warning you about someone coming too fast down a road ahead, or you alerting them to a turn.

    When you do finally make it to the small restaurant, you’re happy to see Toriel waiting out front. Actually she's what alerted you to being in the right spot, this building’s sign is just as unreadable to you as the one for the spider cafe. The outside looks normal, at least. More windows than the average spot you’ve walked past, and you think you can see the outlines of people just barely through the glass. Toriel greets you with a smile, and after a moment, a sly look as she seems to understand why you’re apprehensive. Even with her reassurances.

    A Loox in a bowtie seats you both in a booth with a muted burgundy cushion. The whole restaurant seems to have a muted burgundy colour to it, and you have to say you appreciate that after seeing nothing but stone grey and purple in the rest of the  **Ruins** . That said, you can’t stop yourself from staring out the windows back onto the street. Your body is holding in a nervous energy that you cannot will away now. Something about the more familiar stonework is at least comforting to the eyes.

    When all is said and done, lunch is a quick affair. Toriel does her best to keep a conversation going, but you have to admit you were probably very hard to talk to. Chara’s constant twisting around your head wasn’t doing you any good anymore. At least no more good than knowing that they were around was capable of. That unease they were infecting you with and every time you stood or readjusted you swore that you saw the old goat woman flinch. She could no doubt tell that there was stress and anxiety pouring out of you in waves. When it was over, more swiftly than any time before, you were so relieved to have her let you go without protest.

_     I probably haven’t been the best friend, or houseguest, this whole time I have been here, _ you whisper sadly as you leave the city behind for the caves again.

    As soon as you’re far enough away, Chara starts to fade back in. They’re lounging in a semi-odalisque, leading with their head and crossed arms, but facing partially you.  _ Let it be. If we are successful, then there will be plenty of time to make friends of those you have met when you get back to the surface. _

    You kick a rock underneath your feet, while you pull the map back out of one of your pockets.  _ I feel like I’m abusing her kindness. _

    They turn sharply to stare at you.  _ She is trying to keep you here. She knows there is a chance you make it out, and she is keeping you from it. _ They look away, dropping to the ground and leading the way on foot.  _ Whatever kindness she may show you will be best found, and appreciated, once you’ve moved on from the  _ **_Ruins_ ** _. _

_     I mean, she’s just worrying about my safety… _ You try to speak for her, try to justify how bad you feel about it. 

    They don’t turn to look at you, barely even pause in walking, but you swear you just saw C flinch. 

    The caves are just as dark this time around as soon as you have made your way back to them properly, you and C get back to work. There’s only so many passages for you to travel down, and one of them has to lead back to Snowdin right? There’s no way that Toriel’s home had been overtop the  _ only _ one, and that she had gone and broken it, right? The map in your hands cracks and folds from the strength of your grip.  _ No, _ you think as you look over the massive spider’s web of caves surrounding the  **Ruins** .  _ No there must be another way out here somewhere. I can’t give up yet, at least not until we’ve gone through all these damn tunnels. _

    Once you both have reached a new area, you fall back into the pattern of the morning, you directing and them leading to warn you of any incoming monsters. You wonder again just how they can see so well in the darkness. It would be unfortunate to look a gift horse in the mouth however, so you try to keep your mouth and thoughts shut so you don’t annoy them into letting you take the lead again. 

    You both move like this for hours, watching for when the lights in the corridors begin to dim to facilitate nighttime. There are only a few tunnels left to take when your phone rings. 

    “Hello?”

    Toriel’s voice greets you warmly.  _ “Hello, B? It is getting close to dinner time. Are you on your way back to the house?” _

    You look at Chara and they shake their head.

    “Well, I will be now. I’ll head back now.” They shake their head, cross their arms and tap a foot on the air below them.

_     “Oh, good. There will be fresh pie waiting for you!” _

    “Sweet! Alright! I’m turning around as we speak.” You smile at them and they just stomp off a little, which you have to say you get a kick out of. 

    There's a small clatter from the other side.  _ “Wonderful. I will see you soon, B!” _

    The line goes dead.

    As soon as you’ve replaced the phone in your pocket, Chara comes storming back up to you. “Now why would you go and do that! Now she is expecting us!”

    You throw your hands up as a gesture of peace. “I didn’t want to disappoint her! You know how I feel about it, it’s the worst.” You take a step back. “Look we don’t have to go back right away. There’s only three tunnels left, right? Let’s just finish and  _ then _ go back!”

    They just groan angrily and float up, popping heads off of a flourish of flowers. “No! Now you’ve told her and she’ll know to expect us quickly! We  _ have _ to go back, B! You said it yourself, nothing is worse than disappointing her.”

    Why are they so mad? Don’t they know that this is frustrating for you too?

    You open the map and try to figure out the fastest way back and then just start walking. “Fine then! If you want to yell at me for saying we’ll go back, then yell,” You shout over your shoulder. “I’m walking now and you’ll get dragged along. Be mad, C.”

    They humph and fade away.

    You roll your eyes, not bothering to slow at all. If they want to try and make you feel bad about it, then they can go ahead and try. At least until you stop being so annoyed about being yelled at, you aren’t going to let yourself feel guilty.

 

\-------

 

    “have you felt anything yet, old man?”

**No. Nothing yet. They have entered combat a handful of times, but have exited with only minor injuries at worst.**

    “leave it to frisk to be good at dodging, no matter what.”

**They seemed to be certain that they were** **_not_ ** **the Frisk of this world.**

    “mm, sure. but they are. frisk is a kid as much as they are a job title.”

**Well. You can discuss that with this one as soon as they make it out.**

    “still don’t think i should hop on down, dad?”

**Resume working from the outside, boy.**

    “...”

**We can discuss the contingency plan further after more time has passed or something has gone wrong.**

 

\------

 

    It’s day eight. That’s what you think first when you open your eyes.

    It’s day eight and you’re only marginally closer to your goal. God you really hope that someone has noticed you’re gone by now. You screw your eyes shut and try your best not to think of anything bad, while still thinking of your friends and family. Has your mom been notified? Has she stopped by the house?

_     Stop, B. This isn’t fair, _ you reprimand yourself. Sighing, you rub any of the tears that had been starting to form out of your eyes and sit up in the too small bed. The room is empty and you’re allowed to try and calm down without judgement. Or at least, you hope it is empty. Chara hopefully wouldn’t just sit here, watching you start and force yourself to stop crying. You rub your eyes a little further before stepping out of the bed fully and grabbing some clothes. Leaving to change in the washroom, you make sure to wash your face and really bring yourself under control.

    Coming back, you find Toriel sitting on the bed that you had been sleeping on. She’s staring at some art on the wall, clutching her hands in her lap and one of your heavily marked maps is beside her. 

    “Tori?” You ask quietly as you enter. “Are you okay?”

    She turns to you, looking as neutral as possible, fully disagreeing with what her hands are doing. “Good morning, B. Have you slept well?”

    “Fairly well, thank you.” You’re hesitant but you answer honestly. This can't be good.  _ Hey, C? Are you around? I think we got caught _

_ I am here,_ they whisper. _I think so too._

    Toriel looks at the wall again for a long long time. After a long sigh, she turned to you again. “Are you happy here?”

    You falter, unsure of how to answer. This wasn't what you were expecting

    “What I mean is, do you think you could be happy here, B?” She laughs a little, watery. “This place allows us to respect our history and grow using tradition to guide us. I do not think there is much I could teach, unless it is about monster specific culture. Do you think you could be happy with that?”

    Happy staying here? She’s finally asking.  _ No, no I couldn't. _

_     Then say that. _ Chara intones, acting as your voice of reason.  _ Say it and she will listen. _

    Toriel watches you with closed off eyes and a smile that's trying so hard not to showcase exactly how upset it is. 

    “Sorry, Toriel, but I have friends and family I really would miss. Do miss, right now.” 

    You know for sure you have to do this, but it hurts you to see the sad deflation of the woman in front of you. Toriel sinks back onto the bed, hunching over and playing with her paws. After a moment she tightens her grip and takes a deep breath. 

    “I’ve really enjoyed my time here,” you say, as if to soften the blow. “Really, Tori. If I didn’t have to get back, I’m sure this would be a fun place to stick around.”

    Her fists clench a little further, before relaxing. That said, she still doesn’t look up from her lap.

    “I need... to get home though, Tori.” The words are out like a whisper as if making them quiet ease the hurt they seem to cause. “I can’t stay here forever.”

    “I was hoping that you were just exploring the city.” Tori hunches a bit further in on herself before standing up and staring directly at you. “I  _ cannot _ ignore this. You wish to leave enough to misrepresent your intentions to me. Was it to save my feelings? Did you wish to slip away undetected?”

    You take a step back, intimidated by her sudden intensity. “No, I - Tori I didn’t, you never - please. Listen, let me speak.”

    “No, you shall listen. It is a dangerous, dangerous world out there. You are an adult, B, so I will not hold back. There is a shadow, a shade of a man out there who will  _ kill you _ . He has killed every human who left before you, and they were only children. If you leave I cannot protect you. My word has no meaning outside of this city.” She takes a step towards you, a fire in her eyes and a glint on her teeth. “I hoped that by not mentioning it, by treating this as all that is left of the  **underground** , you would not wish to leave.”

    You take another step back.

    “But no. You wish to leave.” She takes one more step forward.

    You… You lift a foot but step forward as well, edging shut the gap between you. “No, Tori. I didn’t. But you never told me that it was dangerous to leave. I bet it is. But I’ve already been in danger while down here.” You take another step. “I’ve been in danger this whole time, no matter how much you tried to shield me from it. And you can’t just expect me to give up my old life without even asking. It’s not fair!”

    She watches you with a quickly hardening gaze. Not backing down, but not rising to fight.

    “It’s not fair, Tori, and I won’t do it. Keep me here if you want, a prisoner in your home. I know that you can be dangerous, I know that you could if you wanted to. But I ask that you let me go. You let me try.” The distance between you shortens one last time and you’re right back up against her. “Don’t let fear keep us both caged.”

    You barrel your arms around her, changing a hold to a hug after only an instant. “If you’re scared for me, why not come with me? How long as it been since you left?”

    Toriel’s arms shake but stay hanging limply at her sides. You tighten your grip, basically nuzzling into her chest and purple tunic. 

    “I can’t promise our success, but wouldn't it be good to try? Neither of us needs to hide here.” You give her one final squeeze to emphasize your point. Whether it works or it doesn’t you plead once more. “Come with me.”

    The silence hangs in the air until finally she moves, gripping you in a hug as tight as your own. Her trembling worsens until you feel your body shaking along with hers. You listen to the air around you, unable to hear anything other than Tori’s sniffling. The minutes wear on bringing this moment from pleading contact to uncomfortably emotional. When you’re finally released, you’re unsurprised to see that she’s crying, although you don’t know if this is a positive or negative response to your request.

    “I, I had feared what you might say, B.” She says barely above a whisper. “I had feared what I might say in response.”

    You don’t really know what to say. You can hope it will all work out but you really wish you didn’t have to be here for the conversation that comes next. If you could have taken a step back from the conversation earlier, you would have wished to take a step back then too.

    Toriel steps around you purposefully, not looking at you at all. “It is too early to discuss such heavy topics. I will start to prepare some breakfast for us.”

    You’re left sitting in the room alone. 

    Mostly alone.

    After some time, Chara fades in, looking as confused and uncomfortable as you are. You sit beside them for at least double the time you were kept in that hug.

    “So, is she letting us go?”

    “I hope so.”

    “Should we go check?”

    “A few more minutes.”

    “Okay.”

    Eventually you gather yourself and leave. The hall is empty and the house quiet. You’re not sure how long you both sat there, but you figure it was a while. Maybe you even fell asleep again, but you’re not sure. The time didn’t help you process, it just helped you numb. When you get to the kitchen, you find a small box sitting on the counter but no Toriel in sight.

    “If she is not here, then there is something I must do,” C says solemnly. “I get the feeling that this will be my last chance.”

    You just sort of wave them off, not really interested. If it’s important, they’ll explain it. “Need me to move at all?”

    They watch you for a moment considering your offer before nodding. “To the entry hall, if you would not mind. I will only be a moment.”

    You do as requested and return to the entryway. From here you could look down to the basement or out to the  **Ruins** . Both are places you’re not sure if you’re going to go to again. If Toriel really lets you go or goes with you, which way will it be? Is there a way to blast through that rubble in the basement? Is there really another exit that you and C hadn’t found yet? When she returns from wherever she seems to have gone, you’ll find out. You lean against the railing in the back of the room and just wait for someone to come back. 

    After a number of minutes, C returns first. They walk slowly towards you before nodding for you to open your hands. Into them, they drop what at first looks like a rock until the grey, silver, black, substance begins to shift and you realize this must be another portion of their soul.

    “Where was this?” You ask, a genuine ounce of curiosity in your voice.

    They shrug and go back to floating. “A safe place here where I could be sure that  _ he _ would not have access to it.”

    He… You understand. The flower. Nodding, you pull out the other piece which you had just been keeping in your pocket. As soon as they get within a few centimeters of each other, the pieces are drawn together like magnets. You see a flash of red in the space between them before they look to be fused fully. You can’t even see any line between them as the shiny sludge covers them again. “Can you feel it when that happens?” 

    They shake their head, a few flower petals raining down. “Nothing.”

    You slip the piece of soul back into your pocket. It feels like a weird spot to put it, but they haven’t complained yet. After staying there for a little while longer, you decide it would probably be more comfortable to sit at the table. The house is quiet and so you both wait. Neither of you cares enough to do anything else.

    Toriel comes back after a while, looking far more put together than she was this morning and holding something. “Hello, B.” She winces a little and sets down the case she had been carrying. “I would like to speak about earlier.”

    “Sure,” you say, netrally. You don’t really have the energy to fight back if she wishes to start again. You can feel Chara twirling above your head while they listen in on what is to come. “Sit, let’s talk.”

    She sits across from you and sighs. “I am sorry, B. My outburst earlier was very unbecoming of me.” Toriel watches you as she speaks, as if seeing how her words affect your expression. “That said, I will admit that I feel wrongfully betrayed by your actions, even after my time of reflection.”

    Her bluntness sets you off guard and you can feel C twisting around your headspace, uncomfortable. “I’ll admit that I wasn’t being the most transparent, Tori. And I do feel bad about it, but to be completely honest. I don’t think I’m in the wrong here.” You try to give her a soft look, something that shows just how much you appreciate what she has done for you. “You’ve done a lot for me this past week. That doesn’t mean that you get to make life choices like this for me though. I hope you can understand that.”

    She nods, her eyes still having that watchful quality to them. “I have reflected on that and seen it myself. I overstepped my bounds. I am sorry, B.” Tori bows her head for a moment, acknowledging this. “As an apology I have found a way forward for you.”

    You can hear C laugh in your head, an angry, disbelieving sound. Rather than express your opinion of this yourself, you wait for Tori to continue.

    “If you were as thorough as I expect, you must be aware of the rubble in the basement, B.” She smiles a little when you feel your cheeks flare up, but quickly goes back to a neutral expression. “The main road to  **Snowdin** does indeed go through the basement of this building, though it has been long closed by this point. The next best exit would be two buildings down, as it contains a maintenance tunnel for the main road. If you are to follow it to the end, you will no doubt exit into the woods only a short distance from the main road and will be able to follow it further through the  **Underground** .”

    “Thank you, Tori,” you say gratefully. “I really appreciate it. I hope from here, maybe we can do better at being friends.”

    For the first time, you see some genuine happiness in Toriel’s expression. As soon as it’s there though, you notice it’s overshadowed by some sadness. “That would be quite nice, B.”

    The air around you is twisting and you share the unease. You  _ know _ what she is sad about. “So will you be coming with me, Tori? It would be a good support to you along.”

    “I do not think it would be appropriate, considering how I have acted.” She has the decency to look apologetic again, but C spits out in your head that she is little more than a coward. “Instead, I will do my best to conclude my business here in the  **Ruins** . At least, as many as I can that I might ‘vacation’ to ensure that you are making your progress unhindered.”

    Toriel lifts a large paw and removes a slim ring from underneath the thick fur on her. “I left my home a long time ago and this is the place I ran away to. When I got here, I involved myself in as many things as possible, so that I would never leave.” Toriel passes the ring to you. “I know now, after these many years, that it was so I would never feel guilty for my cowardice. Until I can wrap up my business here, take this B. My grace will help you when you need until I can help in person.”

    You accept the ring and slip it into your pocket. The sadness on Toriel’s face is apparent and you feel conflicted after her speech. Very quickly, she rises and flees into the kitchen. You sit there, thinking. Breakfast is made for you, and you force yourself to eat it. Then you retreat to what was for a time, your room. You pack your bag. When you’re done, you leave the room. You and Chara wander the house one last time. 

    Toriel doesn’t say much as she leads you out of her house and through the cave like tunnels towards this maintenance place further down. You say even less. 

    “Good luck B.” Toriel says as she opens the door that leads down. “I hope to see you soon.”

    You hug her, one last good hug. And then you stand back. “I will see you, eventually, Tori.”

    And then you descend, out into the snow and dark and cold.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!!! Woah!! 1k hits!!! thats so exciting!!! Also, hey! we've finished part one. the you know, love interest, shows up next time. pretty neat that the fingers in his ass guy got into smash. Did yall read about Sakurai-san's meeting with toby? so cool. really great for him!
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	16. Chapter 15 - Cold and Conviction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> No warnings, just the trip into Snowdin!

The snow is cold. Your hiking shoes, the things you’ve been wearing all week, are truly useful for the first time. When you stumbled out of the maintenance tunnel, you wondered if you had actually ended up on the surface again somewhere. 

At some point, before making it out you had started crying, though you couldn't place when. It was so dumb to be so crying right now. You’re making progress, right? And you got everything sorted before you left, so what's the point?

You try to distract yourself with this veritable forest as you wipe away the quickly freezing tears. “This place is beautiful.”

Chara floats out in front of you, darting between the trees. You only get a flash of their flowers looking worse for the wear. They don't look back toward you, but you wonder if that's for your benefit or theirs. “Yeah, but creepy too.”

You stumble a little and let out a noise of surprise. The sound is so dampened you barely hear it yourself. “How did these trees get here?”

Ahead of you, you can see them flick their head heavenward. “I think some monsters with plant magic grew them when they were trapped down here. That is what I heard at least.”

You reach out and touch the trunk of one as you pass it by. “These must be centuries old then, right?”

“Maybe. Or these could just be saplings grown from the originals.” They shrug, speeding ahead of you. “The main road should be just ahead.”

“Wait up!” You shout while traipsing through the thick snowfall. When you catch up to them, you're out of breath and you're sure you had some snow get into your shoes. As you try to catch your breath, you fidget with that ring Tori gave you before you left. “Hey, C. Back there, with Toriel…”

They look back at you, flowers wilting but otherwise unreadable. “You got to say Goodbye, B. Is that not good enough?”

“Will we see her again?” The tears start up again, freezing to your face. You can feel your nose take a hit to it's breathing capacity. You tried your best not to feel anything until you had left her behind and now the feelings are coming full force. “I said we would, I wasn't lying was I?”

They don't say anything for a long moment. “... I will make sure you see her again, just stop crying.” C drops down, becoming solid for just long enough to wipe your face. “We cannot have you getting like, hypothermia.”

You wipe your face on the sleeve of your coat. “Do you think it’s cold enough that I could even get hypothermia? Isn’t that a water thing?”

They shrug, smiling slightly. “Do you think I would really know?” C makes a show of laughing slightly. “I can’t even feel the cold!”

You let out a little watery laugh, dropping the ring you'd been toying with back into your pocket. “You should be glad, it’s fuckin’ chilly.”

“... feeling better?”

“Yeah,” you say, sighing as you wipe your face off one more time. “Caught it in the bud. Thanks.”

They float around for a moment before starting off again. You hope it’s not just a figment of your imagination that their flowers are almost the normal yellow again. “We should keep moving.”

You follow after dutifully. Man, you hope that you get onto this road soon. It’ll be easier to walk on than this “untouched wilderness” looking forest. C leads you silently for a while longer. It’s not uncomfortable yet, but you can tell that if you have to keep this up you’re going to get bored really soon. 

The snow is beginning to lose it’s shine, way faster than you thought it would. Maybe because it’s still snowing up top? At least, it  _ should _ be. You have to talk yourself out of digging out your long-dead surface phone to try and check to make sure it’s only January. The older monster one doesn’t really have a calendar app. Yeah, there’s no way you lost that much time. 

As you trail after Chara as closely as possible, you keep coming up with questions about what is happening next. You haven’t asked any yet because you’re still trying to remember what if anything has been explained before. There’s not a lot that you can think of. It's cold here, and wet further in, and while it only takes a full day from one end to another. Oh and that you’ll have to convince the ‘guardians’ of each area to let you pass.

“C, hey.” You start as you trudge through a particularly deep section, keeping your hand on the trees around you for stability. “What should I be expecting?”

They slow down enough for you to finish catching up to them. “Well, it probably will not be  _ that _ bad, but.” Chara sighs and pulls out a flower to toy with. “Frisk always makes it through past the skeletons very fast.”

You look at them, suddenly curious about that as well. “I’ve got a question about that too. When did Frisk even come through the underground? You only ever seem to mention them as if it was a long time ago.”

C discards their current flower in favour of another, fresh one. “It was a long time ago when I saw them last.”

That sounds like an answer, but not the one with the level of depth you were hoping for. How does  **saving** and  **loading** work into this? C had said they learned how to do it together. Did that mean it happened before C had died?

They seem to be able to read the dissatisfaction on your face. “Look, I will explain everything eventually. For now just know that Frisk’s actions will not affect you at all, they were in the  **Underground** a long time ago.”

“Fine, fine.” You pull past them into a stretch of woods that's thankfully only as deep as your ankles for once. It’s weird here, and you get the feeling that these forests aren’t very welcoming. “I’ll expect you to tell me for real at some point now that we’re not constantly hiding from Tori again.”

You can feel them wince more than you actually see it, but it sounds like they’re trying to push past it. What C says next seems to be them trying to ignore your comments. “Things might not be exactly as I remember anymore. Time  _ has _ passed.”

“When do you think I’ll run into them? The sooner we do that the sooner we can figure out how to get past them.” You stop and take a moment to rub your hands together. “It’s so cold out here, how much further until we get to the road? Or better yet, how much further till we get to town?”

They float around a tree without paying it too much attention. “The road should be fairly soon. The town might be a ways away still if I am remembering correctly.”

You blow hot air onto your hands while you keep pace with C. “Sooner rather than later I hope. When should I start to keep an eye out for the skeletons?”

They shift slightly and you get the feeling this is another wince. “Probably before town. As soon as we get closer I will fade away so they do not know I am with you.”

The trees ahead seem to open up further and you’re hoping it’s the road. You pick up the pace slightly, overtaking Chara again. “Yeah, okay. I thought we were done with that now though. You just didn’t want Toriel to find out, right?”

They stop moving altogether. “You cannot tell them I’m here, B.” They pull out a flower and start to fidget with it. “Before, I will admit it was for my own emotional benefit that you stay quiet.”

You’re a little surprised that they said that so upfront. It actually shocks you into turning around and walking back to them. “Okay? What do you mean.”

They pick up a little speed in their fidgeting. “B… You are going to need their support, but if you tell the skeletons that I am around, things will go bad.”

You shift, uncomfortable. This doesn’t sound good. “Okay, I’ll just keep you a secret. What is got you worried?”

They blanch both in skin and flowers. By the time they pull out another flower, it’s wilted so much it’s lost most of its petals anyways.  “I did not get on well with one of them. It … things ended on a bad note, and well, okayiamalittleworriedhewouldtrytokillme”

No, no no. You didn’t just hear that. “Excuse me?” The woods ring for a moment before falling silent again after your shout. “What the fuck?”

“And, and -” Chara pauses and takes a few deep breaths, seemingly aware they were talking much too fast. “- he might try to get you too.”

“ _ C _ !” Your voice is heavy with fear. “I’m just supposed to befriend these people? They must be terrible!”

They stop picking at the flower for a moment. The forest almost swallows their words before you hear them. “It will be no worse than befriending me.”

That is ridiculous; downright terrifying. You had suspected Chara had some self confidence issues but this is … what on earth … how can they say that? Are these people that bad? Is C just exaggerating? You throw your hands up in frustration before pulling them back in fear. The forest seems to close around you, tight and constricting. Where does the light down here come from? Will you ever see your sun again? … did these skeletons have a hand in Chara never seeing it again either?

“I don’t think I can do that, C.” You say in a near-whisper. “If they’re so dangerous, I don’t want anything to do with them.”

There’s a moment of stillness and then you can feel a hand grip your own. Chara’s flowers are still drooping, but the colour has returned to them at least. “We must move forward. You can be upset later. I know I will be. But for now, we must remain moving forward.”

You squeeze the hand yours is holding before letting it fade away. “...okay.” You sigh a sigh of defeat and of denial. If you do as they say, then things will turn out fine, right? “Even if they don't like you, and by extension don't like me, we’ll make it through.”

They give you a smile that looks wistful, even without the eyes. “You were warned of what you would be getting into.”

They were right. 

 

The road to Snowden was found soon after. Like, within minutes. You were so tired at this point, exhausted by the walk and the emotional toll of the morning so far, that you stopped paying attention to the area around you. The forest is full of trees that all look the exact same and the road, once you find it, is barely more than a slight divot in the snow. C retreats to invisibility as soon as you step out onto it, they seem to know you need the reassurance and make themselves known fairly often. The branches around you still feel like they’re encroaching on your person, but it’s not as bad as it can be.

When you were first told of the potential danger ahead, you couldn’t help but feel that you were trapped in a hole with your demise. Isn’t that what this has always been? The further away from that place in time, that place in the forest you get though, it gets easier to move past. Are you ignoring it? Maybe a little. You and Chara chat idly, silently, while you walk. They don’t much appreciate the gap in the ground, and you’re inclined to agree. It looked far too deep, far too wide, and the fact that the shitty little rope bridge didn’t even have handrails? Fucking ridiculous. 

Then came the dogs. You weren’t sure how to handle them. They sucked your soul out of your chest with barely a word (or bark) and you were left trying to figure out how to make them slow their rolls. Especially since many had weapons that looked sharp. It was one of the most  _ human _ things you’d seen so far. Chara had laughed in their supportive position when you nearly fell over in relief after petting the first one into submission. The laughing only got worse when you had to roll around in the dirt and snow for the set of two dogs at once. Once you had gotten your head in the game it wasn’t too bad though. The fact that you were freezing from the snow that had gotten everywhere was offset by the fact that these monsters had actually left you money in their wake. 

__ _ __ _ _ It is a more modern thing. _ C said when you asked.  _ All those who still live in the  _ **_Ruins_ ** _ are traditionalists. I am unsure they would participate in this ritual even if they knew it existed. _

_    So what’s the point though? _ You wanted further clarification. Were you supposed to leave money for them too? 

__ _ __ _ _ It is supposed to be an apology for inconveniencing you with the battle. _ The air around you swirled in a strange way, snow drifting up rather than down and you know it’s because of C’s movements.  _ If you were the one to initiate a battle out of the blue, it would be your duty to leave an offering. _

You hum your response to that. It makes sense, and you have to admit that you appreciate having some sort of spending power makes you feel better. It makes the last of the walk easier, having a problem solved that you hadn’t even thought of yet. The cold and the wet are still disgusting, however. 

While you walk, or  _ slog _ rather, through the winter weather, C’s idle chatter about how annoying you are or what little they remember of the history of the area is broken up by brief comments of the immediate path. One area looked as if it once contained a dance floor, covered by a thin layer of snow. Another seemed to have the sort of shack kids would put together to sell lemonade at, also seemingly left untouched for some time. There hadn’t been much wind here, only the slightest breeze. That coupled with the fact that you had yet to see any snow actually fall made you wonder exactly how long it had been.

Based on C’s distinct “hm”s or “I used to really like this one,” and “He put so much work into this,” you get the feeling these creations were treasured by the person who made them. It makes you wonder a little more exactly how everything fits together and how Chara knows these people. 

Their swirling around your head picks up the further in you get, to the point that when the lights of this new town are on the horizon, you have your own personal snowstorm. Your pants are near frozen to your legs by now and it's been cold so long that it's getting warm again.  The wonder and confusion of the trip here is boiling down to exhaustion.  _ What’s wrong? _

__ __ _ __ _ _ Nothing is wrong, _ they retort immediately. 

You sigh.  _ Fine then, nothing is wrong. But if you keep moving as much as you are, you're going to get noticed. _

They make a noise of frustration. You have to admit you're grateful when they don't have anything else to say. Your thoughts are devoted once again to putting one foot in front of another. 

The lights grow brighter in between the trees and the relief of getting to civilization again helps you pick up the pace. C’ slows down slightly in their drifting, though it might be that you just sped up too much. Thank god that the snow is hard packed but not slippery. There’s no ice here and it’s probably your one saving grace. At this pace you’re able to reach the town sign and the first building in what feels like record pace. 

The town sign is covered in what must be christmas lights and it makes you feel some nostalgia. You can’t help but give a small smile to the sweet little “Welcome to Snowdin!” It seems to read the same phrase in the monster language above the english translation. 

_    What's this place? _ You ask as you approach the orange-sides structure just behind the sign. You’d hate to accidentally enter a private home or something just bc it was the first building you saw. 

__ _ __ _ _ The Inn. _ There's a swish and you can seem some light snow being swirled up further away from you now.  _ This half is the general store. Last time I was here, they were run by sisters. _

Oh, an Inn? That sounds perfect, god you could use a nap curled up under some blankets. You walk up and push open the heavy door without hesitation. 

The warmth that hits you is sweet and thick. Almost instantly you feel a bead of sweat start forming on your back but you couldn't care less. Finally, out of the snow! You let out a happy sigh before taking in the room around you. It looks like an average hotel reception, there are some chairs along one wall, a plant in the corner and a bell on the desk that splits the room into two. There’s also a staircase along one side. You think the rooms are probably above on a second floor. 

You realize, bracing yourself, that you don’t know what sort of monsters run this place.The cold doesn’t seem like it’d agree too much with a Froggit or a Moldsmal, so what. Something more fur covered? The seconds tick by but nobody comes to the front desk and there’s nobody else in this room. You watch the staircase, waiting to see if anyone comes down. Nothing happens.

You wait for a little longer, still standing with a hand on the door. Nothing happens again. 

You’re considering waiting a little longer when you make eye contact with the bell. You don’t  _ want _ to ring the bell, it’s noisy and annoying and so often at work, if someone rings the bell, you’ve already noticed them and will come help them once you’re done with what you’re doing. 

It does intrigue you though, and your hand comes off the door while you walk over to investigate. There is a paper taped to the front of the check-in desk. You get closer to investigate, still flicking your eyes over to the staircase, just in case. You want to be prepared for whatever you see, whoever it may be. 

On the sheet, in quaint looping letters, it reads: 

_       Gone for a Family Event! _

_       Check next door with Penny if you need a room _

_          ~Polly _

There’s the swirl of air and you watch as C fades into existence beside you, reading the sheet as well. “Hm.”

You give them a sideways glance. “You sure you’re safe out here right now?”

“Eh,” they shrug. “We will hear if anyone comes around. It looks like you will have to go to the general store.”

“Back outside?” You look back over your shoulder at the heavy door keeping the cold far away. “If we  _ have _ to.”

They snigger a little at your response, obviously entertained. “You are the one that seems insistent on getting a hotel room.”

“Yeah, because it’s cold outside and I’m tired.” You feel a little bad whining, you hadn’t started doing that yet. At all, you think. “Next door, huh. We can afford it, right?”

C turns to you, playing with a flower. “I mean, probably. If not you can always hang out in the library or something.”

“That's not…” you sigh, “whatever. Help me talk to this Penny so I don’t sound like a complete fool, okay?”

They laugh at you again, fading away while you resign yourself to go back into the cold. It’s just as uncomfortable as you imagine, wet pants refreezing again in the few steps between stores. As soon as you push into the shop, you’re greeted by another wave of warm air. 

The general shop is quaint, a few small aisles of items, seemingly grouped haphazardly. In the back, about where the reception counter had been in the Inn, there’s a counter with a bunny behind it. Like, an actual, five-foot-something rabbit in what looks like a dress and a sunhat. That’s probably Penny. Penny, a Rabbit. 

Your steps falter a little and you stumble into a shelf. In your head, you can hear C snickering. 

_    Shut up, I wasn’t expecting her to be a rabbit! _

They laugh a little louder, even though you know you’re the only one who can hear them.  _ What did you expect? _

_    I don’t know! _ You huff while you straighten yourself out.  _ I guess I’m still thinking I’ll see another human around the next corner. _

__ _ __ _ _ Well, that is definitely not going to happen. _ They laugh a little more, sighing happily.  _ Look just pretend you are a tourist from the  _ **_Ruins_ ** _ and you will be fine. _

You walk up to the counter, smiling as pleasantly as you can at the rabbit. She does the same, though you get the feeling she’s much more put together than you are. “Uh, Hi.”

The rabbit smiles a little more broadly. “Hello traveller. How can I help you?”

“Uh, well.” You falter for a moment, intimated. “I was next door, and there’s a note to come here.”

The woman’s whiskers twitch. “Oh! You wanted a room at the Inn?”

“Yeah? You’re Penny, right?”

The rabbit laughs. “That’s me. Polly is my sister, she’s out in the capital right now with her son. Give me a moment and we’ll walk over.”

“Oh, okay.” You step back from the counter, not quite expecting that. You watch as the rabbit-monster-woman, Penny, bends down to do some things under the counter. 

As she rummages around, she starts to make some idle chit chat. “I can’t remember the last time I saw a fresh face around here. Welcome to Snowdin!”

“Thanks,” you say quietly. 

“Where are you from?” You can just barely see her ears twitching a little while she waits for your response. “You look a little unprepared for the weather.” Penny’s ears flop against her hat for a moment. “No offense.”

“No, no that’s fine.” You start spinning your wheels, trying to remember what C said. “I’m actually visiting from the  **Ruins** .”

There's a thump as you think Penny hit her head on the counter’s underside. “T-the  **Ruins** ?”

_    That doesn’t sound like a good response! C? _

Penny jumps up before your friend is able to respond to your panic. “We haven’t had someone come from the  **Ruins** in years…” She trails off as she comes out from behind the counter and begins to lead the way back to the Inn half of the building. “You came with her blessing, didn’t you?”

Subconsciously, you pat the ring in your pocket, beside the shards of C’s soul. “Her?”

Penny turns back to you for a moment, giving you a hard look. You’re still not sure how to handle the fact that she’s a rabbit, let alone a rabbit that is giving you a hard look. By the time you’re able to recognize she’s inspecting you, the look is gone and you’re back inside on the Inn side. She quickly makes her way behind the counter and pulls out a notebook and a key ring. 

“I know I said it before, but welcome to Snowdin, traveller.” She flips open the notebook and glances up at you. “I get the feeling that you’re a bit of a special case, coming from the  **Ruins** . Polly gets back tomorrow, so you’ll have to work something out with her, but… I’ll give you a room for free tonight.”

You think you can feel your jaw hit the floor. “Really?”

Penny pulls a pencil out from under the counter and writes something in the notebook before closing it and grabbing a key off the ring. “Your room is the second on the right, up the stairs.”

The key is handed to you with a smile. “Go upstairs, take a nap. When you come back down, head over to Grillbys for some dinner and take a wander around town. Have fun here traveller.” She pauses for a moment, looking almost wistful. “It’s nice to see some new blood around the  **Underground** .”

You take the key, a little unsure of how to respond to that. Penny smiles again before exiting the counter and then the Inn without another word. 

“What was that about, you think?” You ask, quietly in case she can still hear you. 

C fades in slowly, waiting to see if the door stays shut as well. “I am not sure.” They pull a flower down and you watch as their mouth turns into a grimace. “I did not think that the rabbits were old enough to remember a time before Toriel was in the  **Ruins** , but it looks like I may have been wrong.”

You look at the key in your hand and shrug. “Let’s not worry too much about it, okay? I was already planning a nap before but now I feel like I’m dead on my feet.” You turn towards the staircase. “Let’s go, C.”

They pull a few petals off the flower they’re holding before following along. 

  
  


A few hours later, your clothes have dried, you’ve slept soundly, and C has wandered to the edges of their soul tether inside the Inn. From what they can tell, there’s nobody else staying here right now. It makes you a little nervous to think you’re the only one in this whole building, but you know C would warn you if anything bad was going on. Besides the place totally looks up to building code, right? You don’t think too much about it.

Instead, you pull your outerwear back on, leave your backpack in your new hotel room, and brace yourself to go out into the cold again. C directs you through the town to a cute building with brick exterior and big windows. The sign out front, only written in english, reads “Grillby’s” and it looks just as warm inside as hotel had. 

Before you can walk up and in though, you hesitate. What sort of people will be inside? You’d only met Penny so far in Snowdin, and she was really rather kind, but what about those skeletons? What if there’s a monster in the restaurant that shocks or scares you into giving away that you’re human? What if it’s packed and your anxiety as you making a fool out of yourself anyways, even without giving away the game?

Maybe it’d be best to turn around and go back. Didn’t you see some snacks in Penny’s shop? Maybe that’s good enough and you can just come back later. 

You take a step back from the building, right into something solid. 

“Oh my gosh, I’m so sorry!” You sputter as you jump away from what must be a person. “I totally didn’t know there was anyone behind … me…”

“no, no. it’s on me.” A skeleton with a too-wide smile and inhuman proportions grins at you, bringing a hand up in a lazy wave. “i’d say dinner can be on me too, but you look like you’ve changed your mind about going in.”

__ _ Oh no. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! Here's the boy! ta-da! Just a reminder, comments are always appreciated and my ask on tumblr is always open!
> 
> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	17. Chapter 16 - Conversation and Condiments

     _Oh no._

    “so, a tourist, huh? that’s exciting, we don’t ever get tourists out here.”

 _Oh no, what do you mean oh no?_ You do your best to slap on the sort of awkward smile that would be appropriate here. _C, this isn’t him, right? Please tell me I didn’t bump into the guy who is trying to kill you._

    There’s a small flutter of wind and snow around you and you feel a hand gently give your back a push.  _Look, you_ have _to answer him._

    “well, traveller, care for a bite at the best place in town?” The skeleton closes an eye in some sort of wink. It's held for far, far too long. 

    You flounder. “Uh, I’m actually a lot more tired than I thought I was so I think I'm actually going to go back to the hotel. Kay, thanks, uh … sorry about bumping into you, bye.”

    You turn to leave, only to feel a hand rest gently on your shoulder before you can move. “look, lets cut to the chase.” The skeleton’s smile has faded slightly. “i know you’re not where you want to be. let’s get some fries, traveller, and chat.”

    That hand on your shoulder leads you around, back towards the door and then the skeleton is leading you to a booth in a very warm looking and feeling pub. The light is orange, the music is low, and the rest of the seats seem to be occupied. A number of patrons, all just as different as you were expecting smile at the figure who still has a hand on your shoulder, directing you from their position in the line. 

    You slide into the booth, anxiety basically dripping off of you. _So, how much trouble am I in right now?_

 _Honestly, B. Not that much._ You can feel them squeeze your hand as you shift uncomfortably on the too-comfortable booth seat.  _Listen, it is fairly obvious that you are a human. He might be annoying, but Sans is smart._

    You sign internally. Sans (you suppose) slides in across from you, that strange smile plastered onto his face again. He sits there looking at you, while you try to look anywhere else. It’s hard since a bunch of _other_ people are looking at you too. God, you really do stick out like a sore thumb here huh. 

    He seems to get tired of watching you squirm after maybe a minute. “so, fries or a burg?”

    You’re a little startled by the question, and don’t respond.

    “they’re the two best things on the menu, kid. _fry_ don’t you make a choice?” Sans tries again, the smile dropping slightly.

    “Uh, the burger, I guess.” You say quietly, staring at him wide-eyed before you realize that’s what you’re doing and turn away. 

    He nods and calls out to the bartender that he’d like two orders of the burg. You will admit to turning in your seat with no small level of fascination as the living fire in a suit behind the counter nods back, saying something in return. Or just crackling in return. You assume.

    “neat, now that’s taken care of. i’m sans.” He holds out a hand across the table. “sans the skeleton.”

    You feel a little like you’ve done this before, but you ignore that to hold out a shaky hand in return. His grip is firm, but he lets go very quickly. “Everyone calls me B.”

    Sans nods sagely, though you can see that smile dim even more. His mouth doesn’t close much, making it look a little more like a grimace. “the food is always pretty fast here, and i’m sure you’re hungry so let’s make this quick.”

    You’re not sure how to respond to that. It’s like he can’t decide on whether he wants to be nice or be stern. Dangerous. Whatever happened between Chara and the skeletons that live here, you’re sure this is the one to watch out for. Maybe it’d be better not to respond, to hold your cards close to your chest. 

    After a moment, much faster than you would have expected, the fire-person comes into your line of sight carrying two plates and glasses of water on a platter. One of each is set down in front of you with no hesitation, and you turn and thank the monster. There’s something in the glint of their glasses, but you try to ignore it. This is already awkward as is. There's no need to go over analyzing the intention of the bartender.

    As the bartender walks away, Sans laughs lightly and it pulls your attention back to the table. “he’s sure some hot stuff, that grillbs. comes with the territory i guess.”

    It's annoying that he won’t just make up his mind on how he wants to react to you, but you have to admit that one was a little entertaining. You give Sans a small smile before starting to inspect the burger that had been given to you. It _looks_ normal enough, smells pretty damn good, and when you work up the courage to take a bite you find that it’s pretty damn good. Maybe it’s that you haven't really eaten all day, or maybe it’s that you haven't had a burger in a while, it had been a few weeks before you woke up down here at least, but it might be the best burger you’ve ever had. 

_Right away, he is going to try drinking the ketchup to throw you off._

    You do your absolute best not to sputter and make Chara’s intonation obvious, but you’re not able to quell everything. Sans quirks an eyebrow at you while you cough before you wave his attention off. _Why?? Why would he do that?_

 _I honestly do not know. The first time I saw it I thought he was just trying to be funny, but it might be a real dietary thing._ They pause and you can feel more than anything that they’re adjusting their position over your shoulders.  _I never really cared to know the specifics. I just thought you would appreciate the warning._

    You try to suppress another cough by drinking your water. It passes quickly enough and you have to admit that this is way better than if you just looked over to see the skeleton doing that. _Thanks, C._

    A few minutes later, once you’re nearly through with the food placed in front of you, you do look over to see the aforementioned sight. Sans is smiling around the rim of the glass ketchup bottle, a smug air about him until he realizes that you’re not surprised. Internally, you _are_ a little surprised, but you got that all squared away before now. For a split second you feel a pang of sympathy when this … joke(?) doesn’t land the way he seemed to anticipate it would, and then you remember that he’s dangerous and possibly a threat. 

    As soon as you’re finished eating, he also pushes his plate forward, apparently done. It looks like it's barely been touched, only played with. It's almost like he just got the food for appearances, to waste time while you were eating. As soon as he does so, he sighs, and it sounds like he was trying to make it seem satisfied, but it’s too forced. You can pick up on the charade and it’s bringing whatever nerves had calmed when you ate back up to the surface.

    “so, b. i’m still pretty curious as to what brings you out to snowdin,” Sans starts, faking nonchalance. “it’s pretty chilly out here, not a lot of no-furs hang out _fur_ too long.”

_How honest should I be? Should I admit that I’m human, even if he already knows?_

_ I_ _do not see what harm it would do. As long as I remain hidden, he should not have any problems with you personally. _

    You sigh, passing off your pause as an internal debate instead of just a hidden, external one. “Look, you’ve probably already realized, right? That I’m, ah, passing through from the **Ruins**?” Your hand snakes down into the pocket that holds Toriel’s ring, her grace as she called it. “I’m still just trying to figure out what sort of a mess I got myself into so I can get back out.”

    Sans starts coughing, almost exactly like you did, and he also reaches for the glass of water that had been brought for him. It’s the first time he’s touched it.

    “You okay?” You ask a little, kind of satisfied you got such a strong reaction from him. 

    There's a beat of silence while he regains his composure. “i, uh, wasn’t expecting such an honest answer.”

    You shrug, because you know that that’s what you need to do to keep up your performance as someone calm in this situation. Internally you flounder for what to say next before C intones, rushed, that you should say Tori mentioned you could trust him. It’s the most plausible answer, even if she realistically did nothing of the sort. 

    Pulling that hand out of your pocket, you let Tori’s ring sit alone on the nice table between you and Sans. “Tori said I could probably count on you to be a confidant at least.”

    You’ve obviously piqued Sans’ interest with that in a way he hadn’t been expecting. With hesitant hands, he reaches out and gently grabs the ring. After a moment of inspection, he sets it down again, looking pensive. “how’s she doing?” he asks after a long moment.

    You shrug again then pick the ring back up. “She said she was considering a vacation. That some unfinished business had been left that way for too long.”

    Sans is quiet for a few minutes after that. You’re just sipping at your water, talking with C in your head the whole time. They relay to you that while Sans spends most of his time around Snowdin, he’s not the one that they’d consider to be the ‘guardian’ of this area. You make some small talk about how cozy this pub is, how the food was good and how you’re pointedly not going to ask what’s in it. You haven’t had an allergic reaction to anything yet and as far as you are aware, there’s no spiders in any of this. You’d like to ride that high for as long as is possible.

    Eventually though, Sans exits his musing and hesitantly starts a conversation again. “so, uh, do you know what’s going on down here?”

    “Eh,” you wave your hand a little, “I’m not sure? I know some things, but I get the feeling it’s not everything. Toriel … didn’t want to talk too much about most things. Hard topic, I guess.”

    He nods slowly, taking in the information. “not my story to tell,” Sans says, simply. “if you’ve got any questions, i can throw in my two cents.”

    Most of the questions you have right now are things that you’d rather ask C. Though, you might as well try to learn a little more about the town, since he’s offering. “Can you tell me a little more about Snowdin? I heard a basic layout from, uh, Penny I think? Over at the general store? But I don’t know too much about who lives here or what the culture is like.” You lean forward a little, before letting your voice drop low. “Like, how bad would it be if someone found out I’m human?”

    Sans leans back. “tough question. some people would be fine, probably. others though, would probably report you straight to the king.”

    “And I’m guessing that’s a bad thing.” As long as neither of you says the word, he doesn’t seem to think it’s worth the whispering.

    Sans shakes his head and his ever-present smile takes on a strange quirk. “it’s _the_ bad thing. tori really didn’t tell you much, did she.”

    “It seemed like a hard topic for her,” you say in her defence. C humphs in your ear, obviously displeased with you supporting the old woman.

    He just nods, probably aware of whatever she had been running from in the first place. Is Sans as old as Tori, or does he just know her well? You wonder why she _didn’t_ mention him at all, why Chara had to do it. Sans interrupts your thoughts again. “just don’t let the dogs find out. anyone in the royal guard really shouldn’t find out.”

    You look out over the pub to see a few of the dogs you had met earlier, all sitting around a table mingling. They all seemed nice enough, very friendly if they thought you were going to pet them, but he’s certainly right. If they all work for the king of the monsters, and he’s the one you should be avoiding, then maybe you shouldn’t try too hard to gain their close friendship. 

_Do you think you can leave yet?_

_What, like the conversation?_ You are startled by the question, not expecting C to say anything at this moment. You can only hope that you didn’t respond to it in any way that would have given away their presence to Sans. 

_Yeah._

    You take a sly glance across the table to see Sans playing on his phone. For a moment you don't even realize what’s wrong with that scene.

    He’s using a smartphone. 

    Your monster phone, a lovely gift that you have in your pocket right now, is some sort of modified mozilla flip phone. A flip phone. _Oh, hold on._

    “Hey. Sans.”

    He is startled slightly by the sound of you speaking. Have you both been quiet for that long? Or was he that distracted. “huh, what’s up?”

    “Your phone. What sort of power adaptor do you use for it?”

    “uh,” Sans just shows you that port on his phone but it’s different than yours. “this what you needed?”

    You shake your head, disappointed. “Nah, that’s okay.” You pause. “I think I’m probably going to turn in for the night. Want me to cover the tip?”

    He  _had_ said he was paying for this, right?

    Sans chuckles a little, pocketing his phone fully. “don’t worry about it, kid. want my number? you can _count_ on me to answer any of your questions.”

_C? Thoughts?_

_Take it. Just in case._

    “Sure, thanks.” You try to give him a polite, grateful smile, but it's hard. Sans pulls a pen out from a pocket in his fluffy coat and scribbles a number down on a napkin. He slides it across the table to you and you take it hesitantly. You remind yourself one more time that he's dangerous, and that you can't let him get too close to you. You shouldn't rely on him any more than you need to. “I’ll text you if I have any more questions.”

    Sans just nods at that, unaware of your internal conflict towards his help. 

    With that taken care of, you quickly duck out of the booth, out of the building, and back to the hotel. As soon as you've closed the door to your room, C appears, lounging on the bed. 

    “That went pretty well actually.”

    You remove your coat and boots before flopping down face first beside them. “Did it? It was so stressful. I’m exhausted.”

    “You did fine, B.” There is the sound of some subtle movement and you roll over enough to see them braiding together flowers from their crown. “I did not even remember that you had that ring. This is a good use for it, I guess.”

    “She gave it to me, like, this morning, C. How'd you forget so soon?”

    They turn away, very pointedly looking in another direction so you know to drop this line of questioning. “There were more important things for me to focus on.”

    You humph in response, not sure why they're making a big deal out of it anyways. They are allowed to be forgetful and distracted at times, you're not going to get in their case for that. That's just how being a person goes. You yawn a little, snuggling further into the top of the bed. 

    Your line of thinking does lead you to another question though. They have so many secrets, so much they don't want to talk about. “So when are you going to explain who Frisk is? And how **saves** , or **loads** , or Sans even, how that all fits into this.”

    They turn further away. “You sure you want to know?” C asks, like they're about to tell you their darkest secret. Wanting to make sure that you are aware of the box you're about to open. 

    Well, you might not go  _that_ far, they’ve proven themself to be an overdramatic little shit. Who's to say what the actual seriousness of this all without hearing it. You try to reason with yourself that them saying Sans would kill them on sight is just being overdramatic. It ends up being more like internal prayers. 

    “Yeah, I want to know.”

    Chara turns back to you again, a sad smile showing under their flower crown. “Sleep, B. Give me time to get my story straight.”

    You roll over, facing yourself back into the pillows. In this position your mouth is covered, so you switch to soulspeak to make sure they hear you. _You’re going to have to tell me eventually, C._ You yawn again, getting a face full of cloth in your mouth. 

_I know. It's not the telling that I am worried about. It is what happens next._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's a bit of a short one, but I hope the Quality makes up for the lack of Quantity! Catch you next time!
> 
> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


	18. Chapter 17 - Conversation and Condiments Part 2

You wake up with the feeling of drool over the side of your face. The pillows here are a touch softer than you’re used to, your head sinking into the plush cushion. When exactly had you fallen asleep? What time is it now? You roll over and grab your monster phone off the side table, pleased to see that its battery is full. How it manages to stay that way, you’ll never know but it sure is handy. Must be the magic running within it or something. 

The time on the clock places it at 3 am, January 5th. You’ve only been in the underground for 8 days? That feels much too short, but yet the proof stares right back at you from the small glowing screen. The realization that it’s still so early (late) is nice, though, and you close the phone, rolling back over intent to fall asleep again. As you do, you hit the wet patch on the pillow and grimace slightly. Ick. If anyone asks if this happened, you’re going to lie heartily. You flip the pillow over again before trying to find a comfortable position.

Right before you fall asleep, a thought comes to your still-foggy mind. What had woken you up? You don’t remember any dreams, and there’s no noise other than the shifting of the building and your breathing… Had you drooled yourself awake? How  _ dumb _ would that be?

Slowly, you raise yourself into a seated position, hoping to see something that would point to something else. The room around you is mostly empty. The dresser against the wall has your backpack sitting on it, and there’s a painting on the wall but other than that there’s nothing interesting in the room. You suppose that’s probably because most people don’t need to stay at an Inn when your entire country (this counts as a country right?) is only a day and a half worth of walking in length.

The longer you sit in this room though, the more you realize that it’s just  _ empty _ in a way you don’t like. It takes your sleepy brain longer than you will admit to realize why and as soon as you do, you sit up a little straighter.

“...C?” You call out into the silent air. It swallows your words whole. “Hey, C?”

The empty air whispers back to you. Carefully, slowly, with fear beginning to leach into your hands, you draw back the blankets and begin to rise from the bed.

“Oh, lovely,” a nervous laugh slips out of your sleepy mouth followed quickly by a yawn. “Gods above, C, it’s too late for this shit.” 

There’s still no response and that nervous laugh bubbles up again. It’s too dark, too quiet, too late for this. The night has your brain turning the shadows up to high and seeing faces in them. It’s creepy. Why did it have to get creepy? Can’t you just go back to sleep? You let out another yawn but continue to make your way to a fully standing position. 

You take a moment to quickly check the room for any sign of your companion. As expected, there isn’t anything for you to find. You sigh, return to the side table to grab your phone, and exit out onto the hall. What the hell was that horror movie with the guy trying to shove an axe through the door? He screams something like “It’s Johnny!” and you don’t really remember it because you’ve never actually watched it but now your brain is thinking about people with axes busting down doors and oh my  _ god _ .

You really just want to crawl back into bed and pretend none of this is happening but now that you’re out onto the hall, you aren’t going back in without Chara. There are two options from here. You can turn left, heading further into the building, though you’re not sure how much more there is to go before you reach the end, or you can turn right and head downstairs. The halls aren’t very dark, they’re lit by warm bulbs that give everything a soft half-light. It’s like a gentle caress for your eyes as they adjust, but that doesn’t stop your brain from conjuring up terrifying images of what could be lurking just up ahead. If only because you feel you’re less likely to run into anyone other than who you’re looking for, you decide to turn left and head that way.

Not more than a few paces past your room, the hall turns and then continues forward further. To the left there’s a glass panelled door that seems to lead out onto a balcony, and then a door at the end, and two more to your right. The one at the end of the hall is only about 15 feet away from you and says “Laundry” on it in English, followed presumably by the same thing in the monster language. What had C called it? Orlando? Artia? Oratio? The last one feels closest but you don’t really care at this moment anyways. Neither door on the right has any labels, so you figure they must be more bedrooms. The geography of the building feels a little weird, but you assume that’s just because you’re tired. 

You stifle a yawn as you step fully into this section of the hallway. “C,” you whisper. “C are you over here?”

Almost predictably there is no response and you hesitate. Taking a deep breath, getting ready to have to explain yourself to anyone who might overhear, you try again a little louder. “C, c’mon. Where are you?”

Still, there is nothing. You sigh and consider your options. You could get louder yet, but that would seriously risk waking anyone around here. You could turn around and check downstairs, and risk running into the rabbit who you booked the room from, but again you’d have to explain yourself. You could just go back to bed. It’s not like C needs to babysit you anyways, you’re an adult and they can’t sleep, so what are they supposed to do? Hideout in your room and just watch you? First of all, that’d be so boring for them, and second of all, that’s kind of super creepy. So like, no harm no foul if you go back to bed. 

There’s a third option, you suppose looking around again. You could step out onto the balcony and hope that that is where they’re hanging out. It’s on your way back to your room, you suppose, and so you take a moment to prepare yourself before stepping out onto the balcony.

The air here is cold and biting but you cannot bring yourself to step back inside immediately. Now that you’re warm on the inside, you’re able to really appreciate how  _ fresh _ the air feels. It's a breath of fresh air, to give into the cliche. Your boots aren’t done up but they’re still good enough to keep the thin layer of snow out, but you can still feel the chill invading.

The nip in the air comes back quickly though and you get to looking around. As expected there are no tracks in the snow up here, but that doesn't mean anything. “C,” you say just above a whisper. “You out here?”

A snowball lands on the ground beside you and you stifle a scream so hard you can taste blood in your mouth. There’s the fear of God in your heart as you look up and behind yourself .just enough to see the one person you were looking for, reclining comfortably on the roof of the building. Their crown keeps you from being sure of where they’re looking, but given that they start to snicker, you figure they’re watching you.

Chara calms down relatively quickly and goes back to just staring out over the town of Snowdin. Despite the chill in the wintery air and despite the fact that you literally came out here looking for them, you let it happen. You’re not even sure what you should say now that you’ve found them. It was more of a gut reaction to go looking for them. Anyone who was alone in a strange place would go looking for their only friend, right? 

A harsh shiver runs through you and you’re reminded that you’re literally out here in PJs, which happen to be one of the thicker, longer tunic-and-pant combos you borrowed from Toriel, but still. It’s literally below freezing out here. You’re not sure how to start whatever conversation you want to have, so you just wing it.

“Uh, hey.”

“Hey.”

“So, this place is super different from the  **Ruins** , huh.”

“Yep.”

“How long have you been out here for?”

“What time is it?”

“Just after 3:00.”

“Five hours or so.”

“Why?” You remember what they said before you fell asleep. You also know that it’d be weird for them to just watch you. You also know that they were stuck in that cave in the  **Ruins** for years. Honestly, you’re just curious as to which reason was most prevalent. 

C sighs and looks down at you again. “To see if I could get cold.”

That… that was  _ not _ what you were expecting. “Uh... uh huh.”

“Look, I cannot sleep, right? I just wanted to see if I could feel cold. Or hot. I can get tired, but only in the overwhelmed, drained sense. There is no actual physical stimulation.” They solidify slightly, form a snowball and chuck it at your head. “Mind your own business!”

You chuckle a little, letting this be the thing that clears the awkward air. “Look! You can do whatever dead kid things you want! I won’t judge, I don’t really care.”

They make another snowball and throw it without warning. You are just the slightest bit to slow and it clips the side of your head. They throw their head back in a cackle and you do the same as you brush the snow off of yourself. It-it's really fucking cold actually. 

“Look,” you start once you’ve gotten your laughter under control. “It’s cold as shit and I’ll admit I came looking for you because I was worried. But you’re okay! Which is good! I’m going back to bed.”

You can hear them chuckling behind you as you close the door and by the time you’re back in the room, they’re lounging on the bed, still laughing. 

“I’m glad you find me entertaining,” you mutter as you pull off your boots and flop down beside them. “I am tired still, it was just weird.”

“What part?” They ask, voice disinterested, but caring enough to come around here. It means something, you think, for them to bother being around.

“It’s a strange new place, you know? And it’s weird to have the one person I know gone.” 

They laugh a little. “It is night time though, why would you want to be near someone?”

“Hanging out with you is like a sleepover.” You think back over the week you two have been stuck together. You let out a tired laugh and clarify “Extended sleepover. Really extended by the time it’ll be over.”

“Mmm,” C hums their assent. 

You roll over slightly and see that they’re in just about the same position as last night. After thinking about it, getting to sleep some on the issue and seeing how conflicted they are you've made a decision. They’re welcome to keep secrets. “You don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to you know.” You pause to yawn. “Like, I’ll have some questions, you’re going to have to explain some things to me as they come up, but I’m serious. If it’s too hard, you don’t have to say anything.”

It’s silent for a long time. Chara doesn’t move their head at all, so you can’t be sure what they’re looking at. Truth be told, you don’t care too much right now. In the morning you might regret saying that, you’re pretty sure that they’re not explaining everything about the  **save** and  **load** mechanics. Other than that tiny fact which you’re sure you’ll come to understand with more practice; if the secrets are too much then they can keep them. 

You’re sure you’ll always be curious, but C actually seems pretty torn up about telling you. It’s hard to decode the emotional state of someone who is so removed from the sort of usual tells you understand, but after a week stuck together in fairly close contact, it’s like they’re the weird younger sibling you never had. You turn away from them and consider getting underneath the covers before deciding it’d make the moment a little too weird. 

“Frisk does not exist anymore, I think.”

You roll back over, suddenly much more awake. “W - what?”

“ **Saves** and  **loads** … they allow the user to repeat time. Frisk and I tried to use that power to exit the underground but we never succeeded. And for one reason or another, they would  **reset** .” C pauses to clear their throat. You figure you were right to assume this would be hard for them if they are already choking up. “Normally they come back, usually a day or two after that first  **load** . This time they never did.”

Oh god, it’s timeline shit. Oh my god, you think, time’s weird down here and magic only makes it weirder. The information is more sobering than anything else and you find yourself just as alert as if you had had a full night's rest and a cup of coffee. That last sentence makes you pause though, and then you realize something. “C… How long were you waiting in that cave?”

They take a watery breath. “Five … six years? Maybe? Things do not always progress the way they should down here, but that is my closest guess. Besides, I am sure I lost track of my tallies a few times.” Chara lets out a bitter laugh. “I only made it to 14, I doubt my math skills are up to par anymore.

“That is not what I wish to dwell on, however. The information you need to hear is this: Frisk does not exist in this timeline, but Sans is like me. At least to some degree, he can remember all timelines. He will know something is wrong, and he will blame me for their disappearance.” They pause to pull a few flowers from their crown to start toying with. “We have had  _ bad _ encounters in previous runs, and so I have no doubt he will target you if he learns I am trying to help you.”

This is all a lot to take in. “So I’m guessing Frisk was really important to both of you.”

“Frisk is like a younger sibling to me, my best friend. One of the only two I ever had. Frisk was something similar for Sans. He loved them too.”

Despite how startlingly alert you are in the wake of this information, a yawn slips past your lips unbidden. You want to get something sorted before you fall asleep again. “So why are you helping me? You never did explain what a  **reset** is, but going off of what I do know, why didn't you just try to force one of those?”

Chara is silent again. You watch them weave their rope of flowers, something that seems to be a nervous habit for them. The longer the quiet stretches between you the more you realize again just how personal this whole talk has been. It really seems to fit the 3:00 am mould, inhibition is down and sometimes that's the best time to work secrets out of someone. 

“It's okay like I said earlier, I know I’m asking some deep shit. You can keep yo-”

“They would not like it if I just gave up.” C interrupts you quietly. “I - uh, I think I am going to go back outside. If you need me, you should be able to use soulspeak to reach me.”

Even without seeing their eyes, you can recognize the anxious embarrassment in their expression and voice. You just nod and let them go, so they do. A moment later and they've faded out of view likely to go recuperate emotionally. If you know your companion, you get the feeling that this is the sort of thing they'd appreciate you never bringing up again. 

You shrug and finally get back under the covers, deciding to sleep on all this. 

  
  


The room is dark and the air cold around you, but you are under a thick layer of blankets. They are fuzzy and heavy and intangible in a way you can’t describe right now, but they are not the focus. Your room, a place of endless geometry and impossible walls, is glowing with unearthly neon light. In the centre of the space that seems to expand indefinitely, about three feet in front of you, there is a ring of highly piled salt. The glow is coming from the centre of that circle. 

As you watch, unable to move, the glows on the wall flicker and shift. You’re unable to see the limb that does it, but slowly, pushing out from that centre, the ring of salt is disrupted. The overwhelming feeling of dread erupts from within as you watch those small granules be pushed further and further out of alignment. 

It seems like it takes years for the circle to be well and truly broken. When the gap between the salt rows is large enough for things to start to pass through if you could see them, the glow in your room starts to fade. In the lessening light, the gap is made larger and larger still. That neon shade is reduced to little more than a greyish tint before a thought rings out in your mind. 

The circle is broken. The circle is broken. The  **Circle** is broken and the circle is  **broken** . And  **the circle is** **broken** . 

And you’re still trapped in bed.

The last of the light winks out. 

You can still see yourself, the edges of your nose still evident in your vision. Despite that, everything else is a non-existence that holds you tight in its grasp. You try to move or to relax or to breathe because all of a sudden it feels like you can’.

You can’t move. The circle is broken.

There’s a flash of light from your bedroom window and you watch as an unseen hand from either the inside or the outside start to force it open. Just before it is thrown wide, the glow winks out and you’re stuck in that darkness again.

When the light returns, you’re still trapped under those heavy, plush blankets and the circle is repaired. The neon of the room is now a different shade and it provides no comfort as you are forced to watch with agonizing dismay as the  **circle** is broken again. 

This time, when the light has faded and comes back it's peaking through the gaps in your drawers. One pushes itself open and your room is bathed in a sickly light but before it can spread any further, it is gone and the cycle repeats. 

**The** **circle** **is broken.**

The cycle repeats. This time it comes from under the door to your room, filling with creaking noises and light. 

**_The circle_ ** **_is_ ** **_broken._ **

Again and again, you watch this ominous display while  the **circle** _ is  _ **broken** _. _

And there is no escape. 

  
  


You wake up in the morning with your limbs all in a tangle. The blankets constrict like bindings and it takes a moment for your heart to calm its nervous pounding. While you try to remember what you dreamed about, you remember your conversation in the wee hours. 

You know there was more to it that they're not sharing, but you have to appreciate how much Chara did share. It's mind-boggling to think that there are apparently multiple timelines, the intricacies of which you don't understand, and in the majority of them another person is trying to do the same thing as you: make it out of the  **Underground** . 

The years alone spend in those caves seem to have taken a toll on Chara. It makes you wonder if that was why they agreed to guide you around down here so quickly, or whether this is all just an elaborate plan to get Frisk back. Is Frisk just wandering around on the surface, do they remember the apparent multiple timelines spent down here? A part of your chest that you're fairly certain houses your soul starts to ache. That small red-and-purple heart is filled with pity, sympathy, worry, maybe even some guilt to a magnitude you're certain you’ve never felt before. 

It  _ hurts _ , how full of these emotions you are, in a way that you don't think you have experienced before. Shoving it down, far, far down, you rise from the bed and get ready for your day. Once you’ve changed and washed up you decide to alert Chara. Based on their exit last night, you highly doubt they would be the one to come looking for you. 

_ Hey,  _ you start innocently. Keeping things unrelated will probably be the only thing that keeps you both together until this guilt fades.  _ Do you think it'd be okay if I left my bag here? _

_ Why would it not be? _ They ask in turn as they appear, leaning against the wall beside the dresser. 

“I don't know. The Rabbit… Penny? Yeah, Penny. She let us stay the night for free, but what if the one who is actually in charge of the Inn doesn't?” You shrug and pick up some of your things that had been left out. “It just seems kinda presumptuous.”

They shrug back and adjust to a sitting position, floating so they're still at eye level. “I seriously doubt that they would be upset if you needed to come back upstairs to retrieve your shit, on the very slim chance you are asked to leave.”

Sighing you, leave the bag behind and pull your coat on. “Well let’s go get this over with. If I get kicked out then at least I got to enjoy a nice rest on a full size bed. And after this, then breakfast, I think. It’s just about food time.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! I know this chapter is a week late, i was dealing with _midterms_ but it all went okay! 
> 
> Like 12 and 13, 16 and 17 are kind of like two halves to a whole so it's just a part 2 I guess. Things will probably be in a similarily chill vein for another chapter or two and then will come a High Action, High Energy scene that im basically ripping from the original fic. Ah action scenes.. Anyways! I hope you enjoyed this and I'll see you next time!
> 
>  **EDIT 11.11.19:** Alternates is going to go on a short hiatus, while I try to get a backlog of chapters built back up. It's a fun, good fic that I've put a lot of energy into and I intend to see it through to the end, I just need a little break from it. My plan is to start active posting again at christmas, and in the meantime I've got a shorter oneshot thats sort of tangentially relates to the Frisk and Chara from the alternates timeline coming out soon, though you don't have to read it as such. Anyways i hope yall are willing to stick around until it becomes active again!
> 
>  
> 
> [Tumblr](https://floralb0t.tumblr.com/?)


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